Catspaw
by Incatnito
Summary: Crossover with Numb3rs - Mac and Harm are sent to LA to work with the FBI on the murder of a Saudi national by a Naval petty officer. Is it a hate crime or something more?
1. Chapter 1

Catspaw

JAG/Numb3rs crossover

A/N: Well, it's been years and I've missed doing this so here I am again. Hopefully, I'm not too rusty at this. I actually started this story a couple of years ago, got stuck, got frustrated, put it away and wandered off to lurk in other fandoms. (I've written a story or two but it didn't feel right to post for another show without having something for JAG and so, I stashed those away, too.) Every now and then, I'd dust this off, add a bit to it and then stick it back into mothballs. I didn't want to post a story I wasn't sure I could finish. Finally, I think I've got a handle on it, so here it is - for better or worse. This is still a work in progress but I know where it's going and I've figured out how to get there.

As you can see by the subtitle, this is a crossover with Numb3rs. Because the case takes place in LA, this starts with Numb3rs but JAG isn't far behind. The timeline is about six months after 'Predator'. Chegwidden has recently retired and Cresswell is now the JAG. For Numb3rs, this would be in the second season when the characters of Colby Granger and Megan Reeves were added. I hope I've managed to do justice to both shows. (Don't expect too much math stuff - I'm hopelessly lost once I get past my fingers and toes.) The first couple of chapters will have some recapping of the characters' backstory for those who aren't familiar with one show or the other. As always, I hope y'all enjoy it.

Chapter 1

Tuesday,

Los Angeles, CA

1305 Local

Petty Officer Bradley McKlellan was decidedly unhappy. He was sitting in what was left of his car, waiting for a tow truck to make an appearance. A big man, he glared with murderous intent at passersby. They, in turn, settled for amused derision as they ambled past. Lily-white Mama's boys didn't belong in this area of Compton and someone had made it perfectly clear by boosting the tires off his ride and spray-painting 'honky' on the side. McKlellan drummed an irritable tattoo on the steering wheel. It wasn't safe for him to be here but it was less safe to leave his car, or at least, what was left of it. Right now, he was contemplating the number of felonies he'd accrued. They hadn't been part of the plan.

None of this had ever been part of the 'plan'. Born to wealth and privilege, he'd learned early how to deal with the common riff-raff by watching his billionaire father, Stephen McKlellan, run roughshod over friends, family and competitors alike. It was good to be king and Bradley fully intended to depose the old man one day. That he was stuck in the Navy at his current ignoble rank was due solely to machinations of his maternal grandfather, a Senator from the great state of Texas and a force he had, heretofore, underestimated. His father, with the predatory smile worthy of a regent banishing a usurper, had made it perfectly clear that he comply with Granddaddy's wishes or he'd be cut off without a cent. It was going to make a man out of him.

It had been an adjustment. Rules didn't normally apply to Bradley Scott McKlellan, or they hadn't until the US Navy became involved. The government kept its sense of entitlement strictly for itself and he'd learned quickly that the brig was not a pleasant place to be. That didn't mean he surrendered by any means, he merely went underground. A larcenous old master chief had shown the way. It hadn't taken long for Bradley to realize there was a good deal of money to gained from the inefficiency of bureaucracy. Soon he had a tidy little black market scam running. It wasn't until he made the connection with a man who called himself Palin that he hit the big time. Palin was looking for all sorts of information, technical and otherwise, and McKlellan had no qualms about supplying it, so long as the price was right. Let others scream about patriotism, as far as he was concerned, this was capitalism at its finest. He would come out of this exile a wealthy man in his own right. It was a glorious feeling.

If there was a drawback to this lucrative deal, it was that Palin was seriously paranoid. The man would only deal with McKlellan and he always named the time and place for meets. Money never changed hands. McKlellan's payment would appear in an offshore account after his latest offering had been verified. If the money hadn't been so good, he might have told Palin to go to hell a long time ago. Unfortunately (in retrospect), the money had been spectacular and he couldn't quite bring himself to stop. All of which had led to the predicament Bradley currently found himself in.

When he'd heard that Compton was the meeting place this time, he'd had bad feelings from the start. It was an unpredictable and unsafe area, a fact that was borne out when he was accosted almost immediately after leaving his car. He let the two little punks haul him into an alleyway and then promptly took them both out. Years of martial arts training, coupled with the Navy's helpful hand to hand skills had made him a helluva lot more dangerous than he looked. He left the alley on the far side, circled around and moved his car several blocks away. He didn't like having it out of his sight but he didn't want it parked near a double homicide either. By the time he'd made it to the meeting spot, adrenaline had given way to temper. This was all that damn towelhead's fault and he was going to pay dearly.

Now, with the clear vision of hindsight, he was privately willing to concede that losing his temper with Palin had been a mistake. The man was coldly dangerous. Not only had he refused to up his payment for McKlellan's 'trouble', he'd quietly promised more before turning on his heel and leaving. At this moment, McKlellan was nervously wondering just what can of worms he'd opened. It wouldn't be that hard for someone to walk up and put a bullet in his head while he waited for the damn tow truck. When the cop car pulled in behind his, he was torn between relief and annoyance. Annoyance won out when the first question out of the stupid pig's mouth was 'what was he doing here?' His reply was both colorfully profane and anatomically impossible and the next thing he knew, he was out of the car and being cuffed. Things had gotten progressively worse when they found the little .32 he carried in an ankle holster. Bradley had felt true fear when they told him he was being arrested for murder. That turned to confusion when they hauled him in the opposite direction of the two dead gangbangers. Now, as he sat in the back of the squad car near a seedy hotel, he was seriously pissed.

Tuesday,

Los Angeles, CA

1438 Local

Special Agents Don Eppes and David Sinclair, ducked under the police tape and headed towards a somewhat dilapidated three-story. Of the two men, it wasn't hard to tell who was the senior agent. Eppes carried an air of authority that was easy to spot. In his mid-thirties, he had over a decade of experience as a field agent for the FBI. Although not the genius that his kid brother was, Don had his own brilliance in his chosen profession. He had a keen eye for detail, dogged determination and an intuitive knack for putting it all together in anticipation of a criminal's next move. Coupled with a intense desire to protect the innocent, it was no surprise that he and his squad's solve rate was the envy of the office.

A quick question to one of the uniforms sent them to the detective in charge. Don pulled out his identification, "What have you got?"

The detective shrugged slightly as he waved a hand towards the building, "One Akil Fawwaz, bludgeoned to death. The Lieutenant said to kick it to you guys, so that's what I'm doing." He stopped talking and eyed the two men with thinly veiled annoyance.

Eppes grunted softly, glancing over at David. This guy was obviously waiting for them to pry the information out, piece by piece. There was always an undercurrent of animosity between the Bureau and the local LEOs. Don was well aware that a lot of his colleagues thought of the police as strictly amateur and that the 'amateurs' resented the hell out of it. He usually tried to keep things cordial. It was stupid to alienate your allies as well as being unproductive. On the other hand, he wasn't going to let the detective get his jollies by playing Twenty Questions with him. Rather than ask the obvious 'why us?' he quietly raised an eyebrow, "Anything else?"

The detective stared at him for a moment and then jerked a thumb at a squad car, "We have the perp in custody." He grinned at the looks on the two agents' faces, "It gets better." Pivoting, he led the way. When they got within ten feet of car, he glanced over his shoulder, "Say hello to Petty Officer Bradley Scott McKlellan." His grin turned into a full-fledged smirk as he gestured for them to go on, "Enjoy yourselves, gentlemen."

Don and David exchanged another look. Neither had any idea what the detective found so amusing.

Wednesday,

Office of the SecNav

Washington, D.C.

0835 AM Local

Senator Coughlin stood up and Secretary Scheffield rose with him. Placing a companionable hand on the Senator's shoulder, Scheffield escorted him to the door, "Don't worry, Harrison, I'll look into this immediately."

Senator Coughlin paused in the doorway, looking down at the smaller man, "I'd appreciate it if you'd keep me informed, Edward."

"Of course, of course." Scheffield smiled reassuringly, "Give Bethany my best." He watched as the silver-haired gentleman from Texas made his way slowly out of the office, his back ramrod straight. Sighing, Scheffield returned to his desk and after seating himself, spun slowly around to gaze out the window. What Harrison had asked of him would be difficult but not impossible. It had better not be. Coughlin was on the Appropriations Committee and, despite their friendship, a firm believer in quid pro quo. Still, this would be a delicate balancing act. There were any number of toes that could be stepped on, any of which could lead to unmitigated disaster for himself and his political aspirations. He sighed again and rubbed his chin. It didn't help that this would also be damned annoying. Frowning slightly, he straightened up and turned resolutely back to his desk. Punching the intercom, he took a deep breath, "Lucille, get me General Cresswell at JAG, please."

Wednesday,

JAG HQ

Falls Church, VA

1010 AM Local

Cresswell pinched the bridge of his nose as he leaned back in his chair. There wasn't any question about complying with the SecNav's orders but he could have wished for better timing. The expected upheaval in the office was still going on as the staff adjusted to his command style. Admiral Chegwidden had been courteous enough to give him a thumbnail sketch of the senior staff before he'd left to begin his retirement and Cresswell was fleshing it out with his own observations. On the whole, he was pleased with what he saw.

There was history between himself and Lt. Col. MacKenzie, something she obviously remembered if her wariness had been any indication. He was impressed as hell by her record since the Okinawa mess but hadn't been able to resist tweaking her a bit to see how she handled herself. Finally, he'd sat the woman down and put her back on the straight and narrow. Her years of being an 'orphan' Marine were at an end and it was time to shake off the Squid influence. He had no idea why Chegwidden had sat by while the CIA hung her out to dry during that South American mission (hell, he couldn't believe Chegwidden had even allowed his Chief of Staff to go on that half-assed clusterf--k) but it had clearly thrown her off-stride. Hopefully, his quiet reminder that they both knew what it meant to be a Marine and that she had his utmost confidence would help MacKenzie find her balance again.

She wasn't the only one on the staff with an impressive record. Rabb's was much more colorful and while he could see how the Commander had driven his superiors (and the bureaucrats) crazy, the traits that had stood out most were his uncompromising integrity and dedication to the truth. In the few short weeks that Cresswell had been here, Rabb had shown himself to be a natural leader and damn good litigator. The loose cannon tendencies that Chegwidden had warned him about had yet to make an appearance. It was too bad the man wasn't a Marine.

Turner was a good, solid officer. His attention to detail was an asset in the sea of bureaucracy that engulfed any military headquarters. If there was a drawback, it was his habit of playing it safe and falling back on regulations when situations went to hell. Cresswell wouldn't want him in command during a firefight but he damn sure wouldn't mind having Turner there to watch his back.

Roberts was a bit of an enigma. So far, his behavior had been completely at odds with Chegwidden's assessment as well as his personnel file. Cresswell couldn't decide if the man was suffering from some sort of delayed stress reaction or if he was just having a bad month. He'd keep a weather eye on the Lt. Commander and see how things developed. Roberts' courtroom skills were nearly as good as Rabb and MacKenzie's but if the man couldn't control his temper, Cresswell didn't need him in the office.

Petty Officer Jennifer Coates was a competent, if overly enthusiastic, yeoman. Apparently Chegwidden had allowed her quite a bit of latitude. He was in the process of nipping that in the bud. No doubt they'd both be happier once he'd clearly established the boundaries.

All in all, this new posting wasn't nearly the nightmare it could have been. There would be the usual transfers in and out as he brought the office dynamics around to fit his style. If there was one thing he hadn't expected, however, it was the continued presence of both Rabb and MacKenzie. Not that he was complaining, the two were a steadying influence on the rest of the staff, but his understanding had been that they were soon to be married and that one or the other would have to go. Something had occurred to delay the nuptials and it seemed like the two were barely speaking. Of course, all he had to go by was their behavior in the office. It was anybody's guess what was going on after hours and he really didn't want to know. He wasn't their pal or their parent and he had no intention of going down that road. At the moment, he was just glad that whatever the situation was, it wasn't interfering with their job performances.

Leaning forward, Cresswell toggled the intercom, "Coates, have Rabb and MacKenzie report to my office asap." That done, he picked up the file folder that had arrived from the SecNav and scanned through the contents once more. He didn't like political maneuvering any more than his predecessor but that didn't mean he didn't know how to play the game. A quiet rap on the door announced the arrival of his two officers. Cresswell straightened in his seat and barked, "Enter." He watched carefully as the Commander opened the door and then gestured for the Colonel to precede him. She hesitated slightly once inside, giving Rabb a chance to catch up with her and then together they approached the front of the desk and came to attention.

"At ease, Colonel, Commander. Have a seat." He couldn't help frowning a little. It was a toss-up as to which officer had the best poker face. Well, he could only hope that they weren't concealing either a desire to kill each other or for having wild, passionate sex. One probably wasn't that far from the other, he thought ruefully, remembering some of the more spectacular fights he'd had with his wife over the years.

Cresswell shook his head slightly and leaned back in his chair, "A Petty Officer Bradley McKlellan has been arrested on suspicion of murder out in Los Angeles. The victim was a Saudi national who was attending UCLA on a student visa. The LAPD couldn't decide if it was a hate crime or if there's possible terrorism ties. Between the current political climate and a healthy dose of CYA from the upper echelons, that was all the excuse they needed. They dumped this in the FBI's lap. I don't have to tell you that the Saudi consulate is screaming. Fortunately, he's screaming at State and the FBI but that doesn't mean he won't eventually get around to us." The General paused for a moment, "Obviously, McKlellan makes it JAG business but we'll hash out jurisdiction with the Feds later. You two have been specifically requested by the SecNav to look into the matter."

The two shared the briefest of glances before Rabb said, "Sir, have we been requested to investigate or defend?"

"Investigate, Commander. The Petty Officer has already retained civilian counsel who, I might add, has wasted no time getting his client freed on bond. McKlellan's currently confined to quarters at Ventura while this gets sorted out." Cresswell shuffled a few papers on his desk, "Our Petty Officer happens to be the son of oil magnate, Stephen McKlellan, and the grandson of Texas Senator Harrison Coughlin." He almost smiled at the looks on both officers' faces. "It seems that the Senator's grandson was a bit of a handful growing up and his grandfather prevailed in having him enter the military in an effort to straighten him out. He knows about the trouble his grandson has been in before and he's tired of the boy's father running roughshod over the judicial process. Coughlin is old-school. He believes a man should take responsibility for his actions and learn from his mistakes. That said, he also doesn't want his grandson to be unfairly punished because of someone's political agenda. Knowing how muddy the waters can get, the Senator wants someone there who will give him the unvarnished truth. You two had Capitol Hill buzzing a few months back with the Elbert case so, naturally, your names were the ones Coughlin gave when he talked to the SecNav."

The General frowned, "I'm sure you both realize that the sooner this is taken care of, the better, for everyone concerned. The press is going to have a field day as it is." He slid the file folder across the desk towards them, ignoring the slight grimace on MacKenzie's face at the mention of the late Michelle Elbert. It was understandable, the Congresswoman had befriended and then come damn close to killing the Colonel. "Coates will have your flight information and itineraries. You'll be coordinating with the local FBI on this. Keep me informed."

Hearing the implicit dismissal, Harm and Mac rose to their feet and came to attention again. "Yes, sir." Rabb collected the folder and the two neatly pivoted and exited the office. Harm reached the door first and again allowed Mac to precede him. He was almost out when Cresswell called his name. Harm looked back at the General, "Sir?"

Cresswell stared at him for a long moment, clearly rethinking whatever it was he was going to say. Finally, he said gruffly, "Try to keep this one within budget, Commander."

Harm nodded, looking somewhat bemused, "Aye-aye, sir."

Mac glanced over at him as he walked up to Jen Coates' desk, "Problem?"

He shook his head, "Not unless you count General Cresswell channeling Admiral Chegwidden." He gave a lop-sided grin at the quizzical look on both women's faces, "He told me not to blow the budget on this one."

Mac couldn't help chuckling. "Should I call ahead to Ventura and make sure they don't have any tanks running around loose?"

Harm tried looking offended, "Hey, that wasn't my fault."

Jen stared at them, her curiosity clearly warring with her sense of military etiquette. Mac decided to have mercy on the young woman. She smiled, "The last time Admiral Chegwidden went on a budget kick, we wound up with the case of a Corporal who'd driven his tank through the CP tent during field exercises. Turns out that he was distracted by personal problems at home. His wife was divorcing him and trying to gain full custody of his son."

"Except that she was doing drugs," Harm interrupted.

"Which we couldn't prove at the time," Mac gave him a look and he subsided, letting her continue the story. "Anyway, when it looked like he was going to lose custody, he grabbed his son and a tank and went on a rampage. Ran over a few cars and blew up a news van before Harm talked him into surrendering." She directed a grin at Harm, "After that, the Commander pulled another rabbit out of his hat and found evidence of the wife's drug use. The Corporal retained custody and was allowed to let his grandmother to keep the baby until he'd served his brig time."

Jen looked confused, "It sounds like everything turned out okay."

Mac's grin grew a bit wider, "It was until the Admiral got the bill for the wrecked cars and the demolished news van. Let's just say he wasn't pleased with the senior JAG in charge of the case."

"It wasn't that bad," Harm protested. He gave it up when Mac arched an eyebrow and turned to Jen, "I know this is short notice... "

Jen raised a hand, "It's okay, Commander. I'll keep an eye on Mattie until you get back." She acknowledged Harm's heartfelt thank-you and watched as the two headed back to their offices. She couldn't help the little twinge of concern. The Commander and Colonel rarely teamed up on an investigation anymore. Usually it was one of them paired with a junior officer. She couldn't help remembering the last time they were out of town together on a case. The Colonel had nearly been murdered by that psycho Congresswoman. 'Trouble-magnets', that's what Admiral Chegwidden had called them on more than one occasion. Jen sighed as she went back to her typing. Maybe this time would be the exception to the rule and their trip would be uneventful and boring. Thinking about it, she snorted quietly to herself, "Yeah, right."

Harm followed Mac into her office and dropped into a chair, "What time is our flight?"

Mac passed over the folder, "1330 out of Dulles. We'll be staying at the Executive Towers in downtown LA."

His eyebrows rose as he scanned the itinerary, "We're not going to stay at Ventura?"

"We're coordinating with the FBI, remember? The hotel isn't far from their headquarters."

Harm couldn't help a soft snort, "I'll bet they're just thrilled to know we're coming. Think they'll actually let us see any of their files?"

Mac shrugged, "If they want to avoid accusations of railroading the Senator's grandson, they'll cooperate."

"You know, " Harm continued to carefully study the itinerary, "La Jolla's only a few hours away. Mom and Frank would love to see us. "

"Harm."

Mac sounded resigned and Harm finally looked up at her. He leaned forward a little, "Mac, I've told you before and I will keep on telling you. You're who I want and the rest doesn't matter. When you're ready, I'll still be here."

"Harm," Mac repeated with a small sigh, rubbing her temples. She dropped her hands and stared at him, "Can we please not have this discussion again - at least not here?"

"Fine," Harm rose from his seat, "But we will continue this discussion as often as we need to until I can convince you that I'm right." He gave her a slight smile, "Marines don't have the corner on stubborn."

Mac couldn't help smiling back at him, "Go clear your desk, Commander, and let me clear mine. Our flight leaves in 4 hours and 53 minutes." Her smile faded as he strode back to his office and she scrubbed at her forehead. What the hell to do? No matter how often she tried to explain it, Harm just wouldn't listen. He deserved better than a woman whose only contribution to the marriage would be her emotional baggage. He would be a great father and he should have the chance. Mac shook her head as she began sorting through the files on her desk. How ironic that Sadiq had been speaking the truth when he called her barren.

Wednesday,

FBI Headquarters

Los Angeles, CA

0820 Local

Don walked over to his desk and sat down, sliding the hot mug of coffee to the side. Picking up a stack of case files, he quickly scanned through them, making notes on what he would need to pursue. He glanced over to see Megan Reeves and Colby Granger walking in. Incongruously, Megan was carrying a box of files while all Granger had was a cup of coffee. He shook his head and grinned to himself. They were both still working on fitting in but he had a good feeling about them. Granger was a bit impulsive, which was making David crazy, but Don wasn't worried. Seasoning was all that was required and Sinclair was a experienced and steady influence. Megan, on the other hand, felt like she'd been part of the team for years instead of months. Her profiling skills were spot-on and he was enjoying her wry sense of humor. That she got along well with Charlie was another plus. While he'd hated to lose Terry Lake to the DC office, he was grateful that she'd gone out of her way to get Reeves as her replacement. Profilers were a special bunch and her recommendation had probably tipped the balance. He looked up when David appeared at his desk, "What's up?"

The younger agent frowned slightly, "You haven't talked to Merrick yet?"

"Not yet," Don answered in a neutral tone. Terry Lake had known but David probably didn't realize that he usually waited until both he and Merrick had had time for their morning coffee. The Special Agent in Charge or SAC tended to be abrasive when they got together and Don wasn't about to add to the tension by seeing the man before his caffeine fix had kicked in. He had originally passed it off as a personality conflict until Terry had pointed out that Merrick felt threatened by having Don in the office. He was sure she was being ridiculous and had been amazed at her take on the situation.

According to Terry, Merrick found Don to be a dangerous enigma. Most agents who achieved SAC status were the political wannabes in the Bureau hierarchy. They didn't work cases. They were supervisors. A good many of them hadn't even been field agents. They'd been hired as analysts and had absolutely no experience in the nuts and bolts of a criminal investigation. The SAC and his second in command, the ASAC, were the front men for the media and while they were concerned with their office's performance, it had more to do with overall appearance and their own advancement. The typical opinion of the average field agent was that neither one could find his ass with either hand. Don had gone from supervisory status back into the ranks with his transfer from the Santa Fe office to LA. It was a move Merrick would ordinarily look upon as career suicide: an admission that you were sadly lacking in leadership qualities. The problem (and here, Don had felt a blush start) was that not only did Don excel as a squad leader, he was fast developing a solid reputation as the 'go-to' guy for solving the difficult cases. According to Merrick's worldview, this could only mean that Don had ulterior motives and that made him a threat.

All in all, Terry's insight had given him a handle on dealing with Merrick. Don took a sip of his coffee, "I suppose I need to?"

David managed to look uncomfortable without changing expression, "Yeah, you do. It's the Navy case."

Don couldn't help scowling. The LAPD detective's amusement had been explained within the first few minutes of interviewing the Naval Petty Officer. McKlellan hadn't wasted any time in letting them know what a huge mistake they were making. He spent most of the trip to headquarters threatening them with the influence that his grandfather, the Senator, would happily wield in wrecking their careers. David had gotten a bit tense but Don was less than impressed. For all his posturing, the fact remained that McKlellan had a concealed weapon, blood spatter on his clothes, abrasions on his hands and no explanation for his presence in the area. If there was a bright side to this whole thing, it was that the press hadn't caught on just yet. Murders in Compton weren't unusual.

Setting his coffee down, Don stood up and shrugged back into his suit jacket. If he was about to get chewed out for stepping on political toes, he wasn't going to add lack of decorum to the package. He directed a wry grin at David, "I'll come find you afterwards and we'll see where we are." Straightening his shoulders, he turned and headed resolutely towards the SAC's office.

David watched him stride away and turned back to his own desk. Hopefully, Merrick wouldn't be too unreasonable. Don was a good agent and Sinclair knew he'd been lucky to have had the man's guidance while learning the ins and outs of field work. Twenty minutes later, David was on the phone when Don walked up to his desk and settled into the chair alongside. The younger agent rolled an eye at his squad leader while he continued to listen intently. A few minutes later, he hung up and turned to Don, "That was forensics. I asked them to put a rush on matching the blood from McKlellan's pants with the vic. We won't have a DNA comparison until at least the end of the day tomorrow but they could tell me that the blood type was the same." He tilted his head towards the SAC's office, "What did Merrick have to say?"

Don drummed his fingers on the chair arm, "About what you'd expect." He deepened his voice slightly to mimic the SAC, "'This is a sensitive matter and there'll be a lot scrutiny. Make sure every i is dotted and every t is crossed. Don't be too lenient but don't look like you're trying to stick it to the guy. We're not the LAPD so, for godsakes, don't let this turn into an OJ Simpson.'" Don reverted back to his normal voice, "Oh, and we're going to get help on this investigation in the form of two JAG attorneys from D.C."

"You're kidding," David leaned back with a frown. "Help with what? This is pretty open and shut." It seemed so open and shut that just he and Don were handling it, deeming it a better use of manpower to put Megan and Colby on some of their backlog. He tapped a finger on a file folder, "Fawwaz looks like your average student - no problems with authorities or odd time gaps that I can find. McKlellan, on the other hand, has a record of anger issues and there's a note in here that he's been written up for being verbally abusive to Muslims on the base. Looks to me like he just decided to take the next step and start his own little war."

"And he went all the way to Compton to find his first victim?" Don raised an eyebrow, "In that part of town, he had a 50/50 chance of being a victim himself." He shook his head, "No, something's not adding up here. I think we need to take a closer look at the Petty Officer and Fawwaz." He stood up and looked at his watch, "Our new partners will be arriving at LAX at 3:45 this afternoon and, 'in the spirit of cooperation', Merrick wants us to make nice and pick them up."

"Wonderful, LAX at rush hour." David's less-than-gracious attitude had Don smiling as he went back to his desk. There wasn't much choice about military involvement and he'd rather have the JAG officers where he could keep an eye on them. Sinclair was obviously still too annoyed to quite put it together. This smacked of Senator Coughlin's involvement and he didn't need his investigation being leaked before he had concluded it. Both Merrick and the Attorney General would pitch a fit, and rightly so, if this case wound up being discussed on Capitol Hill while they were still in the middle of it. Shaking his head, he returned to his desk to see what he could learn about the obnoxious PO McKlellan and Akil Fawwaz.

...0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5...


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: My goodness - thank you, everyone, for the warm welcome back. I had no idea anyone would be paying attention after so much time had passed. :-D

Here's the next installment - we're still in the introductory stages, so have patience - the cliffies will start soon enough. (keru.m -- love your stories, btw - haven't read them all yet but I'm working on it -- the fibonacci sequences are just a little Numb3rs thing - no bearing on the story.)

Chapter 2

Wednesday,

LAX

Los Angeles, CA

1605 Local

David rocked on his heels even as he scanned the crowd moving to and fro along the concourse. Don was quieter but just as alert. It was second-nature these days for the Federal agents as they waited at the Delta Airlines gate. Not surprisingly, the flight in from D.C. was late. Sinclair glanced over at Don, "Do we know anything about these two? How will we know who they are?"

"They should be easy to spot. According to the manifest, they're the only military on the flight. A Commander Rabb and a Lt. Colonel MacKenzie from Headquarters JAG is pretty much all Merrick told me. " Don shrugged, "I got the feeling that his biggest concern was that they don't somehow embarrass the Bureau - and him. He was very clear that they're my responsibility." Movement outside on the tarmac caught his attention and he sighed, "About time, the plane's here." Twenty minutes later, he watched the two JAG officers walk out of the gate. There was a momentary sensation of surprise that the Marine Colonel was a woman. That was followed by mild annoyance that Merrick hadn't bothered to tell him.

He watched for a moment longer as they stepped away from the stream of disembarking passengers. They were both good looking, a fact that others in the area were aware of, if the surreptitious glances were any indication. Either one could make a news director drool, leading Don to wonder if the 'help' from JAG was going to be strictly cosmetic. He dismissed the thought almost immediately, chastising himself for making assumptions.

David was apparently thinking along the same lines, "Man, do you think they can put two thoughts together? They look more like models than military officers."

Don slowly arched an eyebrow, "Agent Sinclair, what did the Academy tell you about taking things at face value?" His tone was just pompous enough to let David know he wasn't serious.

Sinclair tried to look properly crestfallen, "Never assume, always check the facts."

"Very good, Agent Sinclair," Don intoned and then smiled, "Let's go greet the poster children." He strode over to the officers.

Harm glanced up from his quiet conversation with Mac and focused on the two men moving towards them. His attention caused Mac to turn and also observe the approaching agents. He leaned unobtrusively towards her and commented, sotto voce, "Do you suppose there's a factory that turns them out? They all have that same look."

"Don't start," Mac muttered quietly. Harm could hear the suppressed amusement in her voice. He swallowed a grin and assumed a professional demeanor, inclining his head slightly as the two men stopped in front of them.

"Commander Rabb? Colonel MacKenzie?" When they nodded, Don continued with the introductions, "I'm Don Eppes with the FBI and this is Special Agent David Sinclair. We'll be working together on the McKlellan case." After shaking hands all around, the four started up the concourse. Don looked over at the JAG officers, "Do you have any bags?"

Harm shook his head, "Just our carry-ons."

Don nodded, "Okay, where are you staying?"

"The Executive Towers," Mac supplied.

"That works. It's not far from headquarters." Don glanced over at David, "We'll take you there so you can get checked in and then we can meet first thing in the morning and go over the case."

"Is there any reason why we can't look at the case file tonight?" Harm threw a quick look at Mac. They were both tired and the last thing he truly wanted to do was work but he couldn't help raising the issue. This guy needed to know right from the start that the FBI wasn't calling the shots. That and the agent's answer would also tell him just how cooperative the Bureau was planning to be.

Don raised an eyebrow at the tall Commander, "No." He glanced at his watch, "It's rush hour so it will be almost 6:00 before we reach the hotel. I thought you both might want to relax a little and maybe grab some dinner."

"What about a working dinner? That is, if neither of you have plans already?" Mac jumped in, hoping to head off a possible confrontation. She understood Harm's reasoning, but it had been a long day already and she just wasn't in the mood to deal with two alpha males posturing over territory.

Two men stared at each other a little longer before Don shrugged and looked over at David, "I haven't got any plans. You?"

Sinclair hesitated a moment and then shook his head, "It's nothing I can't reschedule."

"No, man, don't do that." Don looked at the JAG officers and then back at David, "It's not going to take two of us. We're not that far along in the investigation yet."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Look, we'll swing by headquarters, drop you off and pick up my notes on the case. That okay with everyone?" His eyes held a hint of a challenge as he gazed at Harm.

"That'll be fine. Thank you, Agent Eppes," Mac cut in while giving Harm a look.

The agent grinned at her, "Call me Don." The Colonel reminded him a bit of Terry - always quick to defuse an awkward situation.

"My friends call me Mac," she grinned back at him, grateful he was willing to compromise.

"Harm," Harm put in after getting a sideways look from Mac. He wasn't sure if he liked Eppes. To be fair, though, he realized it might have more to do with the man's affiliation with the FBI. So far, most of his dealings with the Bureau had left a sour taste in his mouth. It had started when they had tried to pin that Russian's murder on him. Granted, meeting with a known Russian gangster wasn't the brightest thing he'd ever done but he'd been desperate trying to track down information about his MIA father. Who knew a rogue KGB officer would show up, kill the man and disappear? Thank God Mac had been able to prove his innocence.

Seventy-five minutes later, David pulled into the parking garage for Bureau headquarters. On the drive over, they had chatted over inconsequential things - mostly because the Colonel had determinedly kept the conversation going by asking questions. Don now knew that Harm, like himself, was a native Californian and that both JAG officers had a family history of military service. They now knew that he'd played minor league ball and that his kid brother was a mathematics professor at CalSci. He hadn't said anything about Charlie being a genius. Such statements were worse than useless if the person had never dealt with someone at Charlie's intellectual level. Hell, Don had grown up with the guy and he was still amazed at what his brother could do. It just seemed like most people either assumed you were exaggerating or they jumped right to the classic TV nerd with the taped glasses, squeaky voice and pocket protector. Don had lately found that he was heartily sick of the wisecracks and so-called witticisms at his brother's expense.

Although he hadn't let on, he'd been surprised to find that Commander Rabb was still an active pilot. Somehow, jet jock and lawyer dweeb didn't seem to go together. Did he shoot enemies down or just threaten to sue them into submission? The other surprise had been finding out that the Colonel and Commander were engaged. Seeing that it was Rabb who offered the information, Don assumed the man was staking his claim just in case Don was having ideas about Mac. The Colonel had looked exasperated but Eppes understood completely. He had no doubt that he'd probably react the same way. He wasn't going to say anything but David jumped right in, "Aren't there regulations about that?"

The two JAG officers glanced at each other. "There are regs against married couples in the same chain of command," Harm answered. "Eventually, one of us will have to transfer."

"Normally, we wouldn't have been partnered on the same investigation either but that would be more a matter of rank. Most cases rarely require two field grade officers," Mac added when it looked like Harm wasn't going to say anything else. She couldn't believe he'd blurted out that they were engaged but she wasn't going to make a fool out of him and contradict it. Technically, it was still true. She hadn't given him back his ring even though she knew it would be for the best if she ended it right now. Mac knew it was cowardly of her, but she just hadn't been able to gather the strength to break his heart and her own. Obviously, they were going to have to sit down and talk. Somehow she had to make him see that he needed to move on without her.

It wasn't all that likely that they'd be able to talk tonight. Mac hadn't expected Harm to have such a difficult time dealing with the FBI. When she thought about it, however, she realized that his dealings with Special Agent Novak were always tinged with animosity. To be fair, she had thought that it had had more to do with Novak having been slightly antagonistic towards the two of them since the murder trial.

"But you're partnered on this investigation?" Don interrupted her thoughts as they got out of the SUV.

Again, the two JAG officers exchanged looks. Harm shrugged, it really didn't matter if the agents knew why they'd been assigned. "We were specifically requested by the SecNav." He glanced at the look on David's face and clarified, "The Secretary of the Navy."

Don eyed them appraisingly as they entered the elevator that would take them to the main floor of the office. His concerns might be justified. "Senator Coughlin have anything to do with this?"

Mac hesitated slightly. No matter how they phrased this, it was going to sound insulting. "I believe he asked for a second set of eyes to look into the case against his grandson."

David immediately bristled, "Meaning he thinks we're either biased or inept?"

"Meaning," Harm retorted, his expression hard, "that he's aware that the petty officer's father will probably bring a tremendous amount of political pressure to bear. He's also aware that his own political enemies might attempt to interfere. He wants independent corroboration of the case against his grandson."

David's reply was forestalled by a quiet gesture from his partner. Don really wasn't as concerned about the 'why' of the military investigation as he was about how it would be conducted. If Senator Coughlin was holding their leashes, he'd have to consider carefully how much access he could give without jeopardizing the case, "Who do you report to?"

"The Navy JAG, General Cresswell," Mac was relieved to see that Eppes seemed neither surprised nor offended. He had every right to be leery but Mac figured he'd come around once they got to know each other. Of course, he could just be playing it close to the vest but she was beginning to believe that they'd run across another man whose primary concern would be the truth and not political expediency. The conversation ceased for a moment as the elevator stopped at the lobby of the main floor. It took a few minutes for she and Harm to be issued visitor passes and then they were following Don across the office. Agent Sinclair had excused himself as soon as they cleared the security gate.

Don looked across the room to see that Merrick's office was dark. Megan and Colby were nowhere to be seen either. He glanced over his shoulder at the JAG officers, "I'll introduce you to SAC Merrick and the rest of my squad in the morning. It looks like everyone's gone for the day." He turned back to resume the trek to his desk and was slightly startled to see a familiar figure sitting in his chair. "Charlie?"

Charlie spun around in the chair and smiled, "Hey Don." He hesitated when he saw his brother wasn't alone.

"Charlie, this is Commander Harmon Rabb and Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie. They're with the Judge Advocate General's office in D.C." He looked back at the officers, "Harm, Mac, this is my brother, Dr. Charles Eppes. He's a part-time consultant for the Bureau." After greetings were exchanged, Don looked back at Charlie, "I didn't know you'd be in today, what's up?"

Charlie smiled again, "I just finished helping Agent Guerrero with that fraud case. Some of the algorithms needed tweaking. Since I was here, I thought maybe we could grab some dinner?" His smile faltered a little as he glanced at JAGs, "Unless, of course, you're still working... "

Don frowned slightly, "Geez, Charlie." He ran a hand through his hair, "I'm sorry." Damn, they were finally getting on the same page in their somewhat rocky relationship. It had been tough working out issues that had hounded them since childhood but he was now at a point where he would have preferred sharing a meal with his brother to discussing a case with colleagues.

"We were about to have a working dinner, why don't you join us?" Mac interrupted. It was bad enough that she wasn't going to be able to relax anytime soon because Harm had a bug in his ear about working with the FBI; they didn't need ruin Agent Eppes' evening as well. She blinked when all three men looked at her, "What?"

Don shifted somewhat uncomfortably, shooting his brother an apologetic glance, "This is a politically sensitive case and there's no reason for Charlie to consult."

At the same time, Charlie was shaking his head, "I appreciate the invitation but I wouldn't want to get Don in trouble."

Realizing that Mac had just about reached the limits of her patience with him, Harm only offered a token argument, "Mac, you know information on an ongoing investigation is privileged. General Cresswell would have a fit." He swallowed a sigh when she folded her arms and gave the three men a look that clearly said that she thought they were being particularly dense.

Although she had no idea how math could help with a murder investigation, Mac was willing to argue the point. "How do you know he can't assist on this case? Shouldn't we discuss it with him first?" She glanced at Charlie, still somewhat amazed at how young he was. When Don had mentioned his 'kid brother' taught applied mathematics at CalSci, Mac had automatically assumed that Charlie was only a year or so younger. This guy looked more like a college student than a college professor. "I think Dr. Eppes would be the best judge of whether or not he could help and he can't do that without getting the basics. I don't see the harm in going over it with him." She directed her last question to Charlie, "Would you mind joining us for dinner while you evaluate the case?"

Charlie's eyebrows went up and he shook his head with the beginnings of a small grin. Mac looked at Harm and Don, "Then that's settled. For the record, I've asked for Dr. Eppes' opinion. Now, where are we going to eat? I'm starving."

Don shifted, momentarily taken aback at the abrupt change of subject, "Uhh, well... what kind of food do you like?"

"Preferably something that's already dead, but that's not a deal-breaker," Harm said blandly, earning a mock glare from his Marine.

Don smiled. He was beginning to warm up to these two, "There's a little surf 'n turf restaurant a couple of blocks from here. Food's good and it's got booths in the back for privacy."

"Sounds good to me," Mac looked over at Harm who nodded, too. "Let's go."

Wednesday,

Henry B's

Los Angeles, CA

1825 Local

After watching the waitress leave with their orders, Don looked from Harm to Mac, "We don't have too much to go on just yet. Akil Fawwaz, a student at UCLA, was found beaten to death in a flea-bag hotel in Compton." His tone turned dry, "Surprisingly, the room was rented to a John Smith and other than confirming it wasn't Fawwaz, the desk clerk can't seem to remember what he looks like. We don't know if the victim was meeting someone or if someone took him there with the intent to kill him." He was recapping the case for Charlie as well as himself. Sometimes laying it out step by step for someone else helped him see things he might have missed.

"Were any of the other rooms nearby occupied at the time? Somebody should have heard something." Mac sipped her water and eyed the bread basket sitting on the other side of Harm. She hadn't been kidding when she said she was starving. The snacks served on the plane hardly made a dent.

Don rubbed the back of his neck, "The police canvassed the hotel and the surrounding neighborhood. Nobody saw or heard anything - fairly typical, considering the area. It's safer to mind your own business."

Harm handed a roll to Mac and looked over at Don, "How did the cops catch McKlellan?"

"They got a call about a dead body at the Guilford. They found Fawwaz, searched the area and picked up McKlellan a couple of blocks away."

"That's odd," Charlie commented.

"More like stupid," Harm grabbed a roll for himself and silently offered another one to Mac before passing the basket to Don.

"Well yes, that too, but that's not what I meant," Charlie smiled slightly as he tilted his head to the side. "Don just said that people don't get involved down there yet someone called soon after the murder occurred." He looked at Don, "What happened exactly?"

Don frowned, this was part of what was bothering him, "The cops got the call about a body but the caller just named the hotel, he didn't give a room number. They had to go floor by floor to find Fawwaz. The room was locked up tight and paid for for the next three days. Someone didn't want this kid found right away."

"And someone else did," Mac said dryly. "Why were the police looking at McKlellan?"

"Call it profiling," Don shrugged. "The Petty Officer didn't exactly fit into the Compton area."

"But if he was the murderer, what was he doing hanging around? That's not too bright," Harm scowled, "and according to his files, McKlellan's hardly an idiot. This sounds like a set-up."

"Maybe, except that McKlellan had blood spatter on his clothes, his knuckles were a mess and he had a .32 in an ankle holster. Aside from threatening us with his family's influence, he wouldn't say word one." Don countered.

"Why was he in Compton?" Mac asked. She'd finished off her second roll and was trying not to think about a third. Surely the waitress would be back soon with their salads. It was a weeknight and the restaurant wasn't particularly crowded.

"He wouldn't answer that question either." Don had a hard time keeping the frustration out of his voice. Except for the steady stream of invective about their careers, the Petty Officer had lawyered up almost immediately. The shifty-eyed little bastard in the Armani suit who had shown up to spring McKlellan, had also made sure his client didn't say another word. He leaned back a little and closed the file folder. Their waitress was approaching with a tray of salads.

Charlie glanced at his brother while the salads were distributed. Once the waitress had left, he cleared his throat softly, "You don't think McKlellan's the murderer, do you?"

Don shot Charlie an exasperated look, "I think McKlellan's in whatever this is right up to his eyeballs. As for murder, who knows? Something's going on with him, I can feel it."

"Any idea why Fawwaz was the target?" Mac asked while digging industriously into her salad.

"LAPD was thinking it was a hate crime which is why we're involved," Don glanced over at Harm, "You know McKlellan's got a record of abuse with Muslims on the base."

"Verbal," Harm retorted, unable to keep the sharp tone out of his voice. "It's a pretty big jump to physical. How do we know he wasn't lured to Compton so he could get pinned with this murder?"

"Are you investigating or defending this guy?" Don glared at the Navy Commander.

"Investigating," Mac said firmly. "Do you know why the Petty Officer was still in Compton when the police showed up?"

Don swallowed his irritation as he turned his attention to Mac. He even managed a small grin, "He didn't have a choice. Someone had ripped off his tires and tagged the side of his car with the word 'Honky'. Apparently he was sitting in what was left, waiting for a tow truck. That's part of the reason the cops pulled him out after they stopped to talk to him. He was mad as hell and started swearing at them."

Mac rolled her eyes, "Not the brightest thing to do with the LAPD."

"No," Don agreed. "When they saw the blood on his clothes and found the gun, they arrested him for the murder and eventually called us."

Harm's eyebrows rose, "That's the case against him? He was in the area with a gun and had blood on him? Fawwaz was beaten, not shot. Good grief, a first-year law student could get him off. Did anyone bother to check to see if the blood belonged to the victim?"

"We're waiting on the DNA analysis," Don ground out slowly, aware that his temper was trying to get the better of him.

"Harm," Mac said at the same time. She gave him a troubled look, knowing he was reliving the Singer debacle.

"Does anyone know how Fawwaz wound up in a hotel room in Compton?" Charlie asked, looking from Harm to his brother. Somehow he didn't think it was just this case that was making the Commander so defensive.

"No," Don stabbed at a piece of tomato. "That's another part of this case that doesn't make sense. What was either of them doing in Compton? Fawwaz is - was a student studying architecture at UCLA. We know his family is well-to-do and he had a privileged upbringing. So does McKlellan, for that matter. These guys would hang out at a Starbuck's, not one of the worse areas in Compton. It's damn dangerous. I'd think twice before going there unarmed, too."

"There has to be a link somewhere," Mac frowned, partly from the inconsistencies of the case and partly from the tension escalating between the two men. "Drugs? We know McKlellan's been busted at least once before for possession while he was in college."

Harm turned and looked at her, "It was recreational and he beat the conviction. I don't think he'd take a chance moving drugs. It's high-risk and he doesn't really need the money. He and his sister will inherit everything." He shifted his attention to Don, "What about Fawwaz?"

Don shook his head, "We don't know yet. He doesn't have a police record but we haven't had a chance to interview the people that knew him. His student records should be available in the morning." He looked over at Charlie, "Maybe you can take a look and see if anything odd pops out."

Charlie nodded, "If it's in the morning. I've got classes in the afternoon and then I have to be in my office for a couple of hours to answer student inquiries."

"We should go to Ventura tomorrow to talk with McKlellan's CO and co-workers. I'd like to have a clearer picture of the Petty Officer before we talk to him," Harm looked at Mac and then at Don, "We'll need transportation to the base so we can requisition a car."

"Why don't we split up?" Mac asked. She got the raised eyebrow expressions she was halfway expecting. Their investigation would be at standstill if Harm didn't get over this problem with the Feds and forcing him to work with Eppes seemed like the fastest solution. God knew it would take longer if she had to do the arguing. Besides, the more she had learned about Don Eppes, the more traits of Harm she could see. Either they would make a killer team or they would simply kill each other. Mac was willing to gamble on their professionalism to keep the latter from happening. She looked over at Charlie, "How about if I go with you tomorrow and Don can go with Harm?"

Don started to protest and then thought better of it. He still wasn't sure about the JAG officers' agenda. This would be an ideal way to keep an eye on them and a good opportunity to get past this head-butting he and the Commander seemed to having. He nodded, "Sounds like a good idea."

Harm saw Eppes raise an eyebrow at him as he opened his mouth to argue. The challenge was unmistakable and Harm responded the only way he could. He smiled sweetly at Mac, "Works for me."

"Great," Mac smiled in return and then her eyes lit up as she looked past him.

Harm glanced over his shoulder and saw the waitress approaching with a tray loaded with food. He turned back to the table with a grin, "Clear the decks, we've got incoming."

... 8, 13, 21, 34, 55...


	3. Chapter 3

Oh my, sorry for the delay in posting. It's been a hectic week and I just don't know where the time goes. I meant to get this up a couple of days ago. If you can stand it - one more chapter to fill out the characters' lives to this point. I really couldn't see any way around this, especially for those of you who are unfamiliar with Numb3rs. After this, it's off to the races. As always, thank you for taking the time to review.

Chapter 3

Wednesday,

En route to the Eppes Residence

Los Angeles, CA

2115 Local

Don looked over at his brother, "You know, there really isn't that much of a reason for you to work on this investigation. I hate wasting your time, so how about after you and the Colonel check out Fawwaz's school records, I'll see what I can do to get you out of it." They had just dropped the JAG officers off at the hotel and now Don was taking Charlie home. Considering the hour and the plans for tomorrow, he'd probably spend the night there rather than go to his apartment.

"Honestly, I wouldn't mind staying with this. You were right when you said it doesn't make sense," Charlie gazed out the window at the passing scenery. "I know this isn't exactly the type of thing I usually work on, but I'd like to help if I could." He watched the windows and doors of various buildings race by for a few minutes and then absently calculated the SUV's velocity before finally looking back at Don, "What did you think of Rabb and MacKenzie?"

"They're okay, I guess," Don shrugged a little. "Commander Rabb seems to have a bit of an attitude but it's nothing I can't handle." In point of fact, the chip on the Commander's shoulder had piqued his curiosity. There had to be some reason behind it and it was something Don was going to look into when he had a chance.

"The Colonel's a beautiful woman," Charlie commented nonchalantly as he shifted his gaze to the passing traffic. The ever-changing patterns of headlights were fascinating as always. With the slightest hint of a raised eyebrow, he continued with studied indifference, "Are you going to ask her out?"

"Charlie!" Don shot a glare at his brother who was now grinning. "No, I'm not going to ask her out! And you can stop smirking, little brother, she happens to be engaged to that oversized doorman she was with."

Both Charlie's eyebrows went up, "You're kidding. I thought the military... can they do that?"

"Apparently," Don said dryly. He was quiet for a couple of seconds, "Actually, Colonel MacKenzie said they wouldn't ordinarily be assigned together but that this was a special case."

"Because of the Senator." Charlie made it a statement rather than a question.

"Yeah," Don tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. "You know, I keep getting the feeling I know the Colonel from somewhere." He shook his head in annoyance, it would come to him eventually if he quit pushing. "I wonder why these particular two were chosen?"

"Does it matter?"

"Well, yeah." Don looked at his brother, "Are they here because they're good investigators or are they here because they're in the Senator's pocket? This is going to be tough enough without having them acting as a direct pipeline to Senator Coughlin. The DA would have a fit and I can guarantee we'd have McKlellan's lawyer doing preemptive strikes before we were halfway through gathering evidence."

"Is there any way to find out?" While Charlie knew that Don could access information about a wide range of subjects, he didn't think this particular facet would be in anyone's file. Short of cornering the JAG officers and asking them outright, the only other means of finding out would be to ask the Senator himself - a tactic that epitomized the liar paradox.

"Tomorrow I'll check what the Bureau has on them and then see about accessing their service records. Other than that, I'll just have to keep my eyes open." Don lapsed into silence again while he considered what he knew. His gut instinct said to trust them which he found surprising considering Rabb's hostility.

Charlie nodded, "If there's anything I can do... " He left the sentence open-ended. There was a time, not too long ago, when such an offer would have been instantly rebuffed. Don had a fiercely developed streak of self-reliance, especially when it came to his genius brother. It had been honed to perfection over the years as Charlie required more and more attention while the two were growing up.

Although Charlie could no more help the way his mind worked than he could change the color of his eyes, he always felt guilty about the effect it had on Don during their childhood. His brother had been the only child for the first five years of his life, the center of the Eppes family universe. Even after Charlie was born, it hadn't been too bad. Their parents had been careful to emphasize that being the eldest was important. It would be Don's job to make sure his little brother learned all the stuff a guy needed to know to get by in the world. All of that got turned on its ear when Charlie finally began to speak and it became painfully obvious that there was nothing normal about the second son of the Eppes. Life, as the family knew it, was never the same again.

It hadn't been that clear when he was a kid but as an adult, Charlie was now aware that it would have been impossible for Don not to have been resentful. It never devolved into hate but there had been and still was a bit of anger. His brother had been left increasingly to his own devices as Charlie and his unique abilities demanded an increasing amount of their parents' time and energy. Don had been forcibly shoved from the spotlight of attention and, as their mother became more and more determined to give Charlie every advantage as well as a 'normal' life, probably felt that he'd been shoved away from his mother's affection as well. The final blow had been when Mom had made the decision to let Charlie attend Don's high school. It had been tough on both brothers. Charlie became a natural target and Don, who would have preferred that no one knew he was related to 'that little genius geek', spent a lot of his time chasing off the bullies. All of that came to a head when Charlie wound up graduating with Don. The single most important event of his young life and Don had to share it with his little brother. Small wonder that college marked the beginning of Don distancing himself from his family - and Charlie.

For over ten years, contact between the brothers had been limited to short, awkward visits during holidays and occasional tidbits of information passed along to their parents. While Charlie was always anxious to hear news of his brother, he seriously doubted that the reverse was true. He knew Don didn't hate him but it was also clear that Don preferred him at a distance. It had taken the illness and death of their mother to bring Don back to California and into yet another conflict with his brother.

Charlie had been completely unable to deal with his mother's impending death. He'd thrown himself into the refuge of his numbers to the dismay and anger of both Don and their father. Ironically, the only one who truly understood what Charlie was going through and why he was doing it, was their mom. He had control over numbers, he understood them, he could bend them to his will. If he applied himself, nothing was unsolvable - not N vs NP, not the Riemann Hypothesis and certainly not cancer. Solve one and he would solve them all... but he hadn't. There were times during the months following her death when he thought the failure would kill him.

After she was gone, the brothers had fallen into a sort of uneasy truce for the sake of their father. It wasn't until Charlie managed to convince Don that he could help with the serial-rapist-turned-killer case that they started to heal their relationship. It had been the opportunity Charlie had been waiting for his whole life - the chance to make Don not regret being saddled with his freak brother.

Wednesday,

Executive Towers

Los Angeles, CA

2130 Local

Mac walked out of the bathroom, running a towel through her hair. She was wearing shorts and a comfortable, old t-shirt Chloe had sent her two Christmases ago that read 'To err is human, to forgive divine, neither is Marine Corps policy.' A long, hot shower had relaxed her to the point where she thought she could sleep. Mac glanced at the phone, debating whether to give Harm a call. They couldn't get adjoining rooms but he was just across the hall. If he was anywhere near as tired as she was, he might have already crashed. On the other hand, this would be the first chance they'd had for any privacy since this morning before work.

Mac dropped onto the bed and eyed the phone again. She had to stop doing this. It was too damn selfish. Her need for him always seemed to win out over the cold, hard, logical side that said do the man a favor and cut him loose. Falling back, she stared up at the ceiling, the same old arguments revolving through her head. Would it be so bad? There were other childless couples out there. She loved Harm and he loved her. Their relationship wasn't dependent upon children, was it?

She squeezed her eyes shut. No matter how hard she tried to believe that loving each other was enough, there was this razor-edged sliver of fear. As a woman, she was fundamentally flawed. Why would a man like Harm, who obviously enjoyed kids, want to burden himself with someone whose prospect of becoming pregnant was a miniscule 4? He kept saying it didn't matter and Mac believed him - for now. But what about a year down the road? Or two? What happened when it finally hit him that there'd be no miracle and he would be the last of his family? That there would be no more Rabbs serving their country? How many generations had there been? Five? Six? And it would stop right here - because of her. How could he not grow to resent that, resent her? How long would it take for that little thread of disappointment to fester until it poisoned what they had? She had grown up in just such a heinous atmosphere, the thought of having something like that happen with Harm was more than she could bear.

Her burgeoning bout of depression was halted by a familiar rap on the door and a welcome voice, "Mac, are you still awake?"

She bounced up and hurried to the door, firmly ignoring the little voice of doom that was telling her this was bad idea. Checking the peephole, she opened the door and smiled at the sight of Harm leaning casually against the doorjamb. He was wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of worn Navy sweatpants. It was obvious he just gotten out of the shower too, his hair was still wet. "Hey, I thought you might have already been asleep."

He quirked an eyebrow at her and said solemnly, "Can't, I think there's a monster under the bed."

Mac couldn't help chuckling at his silliness, "You want me to check?"

Harm stepped into the room and then swept her up into a hug, nudging the door closed with his hip, "Nooo, I think I should stay here. It might be moving this way."

"Then we probably ought to join forces."

"That's exactly what I thought," Harm gave her a comically lascivious look while tightening his hold.

"You," she smiled at him fondly. How was it he knew just the tone to take with her? After so many years of miscommunication and missteps, this still seemed like a miracle. Closing her eyes, Mac sank into his embrace and buried her head in his chest. She wanted to savor every moment, store them up for the desert her life would become when she finally gathered the strength to walk away from the man she loved.

Harm sighed to himself and rested his head on top of hers. She was doing it again - trying to figure out a way to make him let go. The irony wasn't lost on him. Well, this time, he had no intention of complying. He'd been floored when he'd learned of the endometriosis. Mac had shifted into Stoic Marine mode as she went over what the doctors had told her and what it meant for the two of them. Shortly thereafter, she began her distancing campaign. For a while it had resembled the bad old days. Mac was pushing him away and he had reacted with hurt and anger. How shallow did she think he was?

A timely call from his mother had averted disaster. Mac hadn't returned several of her phone calls and the ones she had had been short and abrupt. Trish knew something was wrong and had been worried enough to call him. Harm still wasn't sure if it was the right question at the wrong time or the wrong question at the right time but it opened the floodgates and he found himself uncharacteristically unloading on his mother. After listening to his ranting and raving, she'd finally jumped in with a few choice words of her own. Once he'd been shocked into silence, Trish had taken over the conversation and also taken him to task. Amid the myriad points she made, one stuck in his head. According to Trish, if the shoe were on the other foot, Mac's reaction was exactly the sort of silly, noble and idiotic behavior she'd expect from him. Afterwards, Harm was grateful she hadn't been in the same room with him. She probably would have tried jump-starting his brain by slapping him upside the head.

Straightening up, he gave Mac a quick kiss on top of the head, "We need to talk." He felt her nod and heard a muffled 'I know'. Quietly, he led her over to the bed and sat the both of them down. Harm stared at the floor in silence for a few seconds while he gathered his thoughts. While he hadn't been all that thrilled to be partnered with the Feds, getting Mac out of DC had been a golden opportunity. Away from distractions of home, work and well-meaning friends, perhaps he could finally convince her that their relationship could weather this particular storm.

Wednesday,

En route to the Eppes Residence

Los Angeles, CA

2135 Local

Don glanced at Charlie. There'd been a slight trace of wistfulness in his brother's voice when he'd offered his help - like he was halfway expecting to be shut out. Don bit off a sigh, "Just keep an ear open for any odd phone calls and let me know." He shifted slightly in his seat. Their relationship, while much better than he would have ever thought possible, still hit rough patches occasionally. Charlie lived a sheltered life and sometimes Don just wanted to shake him and make him see what the real world was like. Fortunately, common sense usually prevailed. Charlie's chosen profession, even without being a genius, tended to shield him from the gritty reality that Don saw on a daily basis. Academia was its own little universe. Don was actually proud of his brother for stepping outside the comfortable parameters of his life in order to help make the public safer. The problems occurred when Charlie's elegant and abstract distillations of events and probabilities ran head-on into the messy, unpredictable variables of human behavior.

The worst had been during the Charm School Boys bank robberies. It was only the second time that he'd gone to his little brother for help and it had nearly been the last. Charlie had correctly predicted where the next robbery would take place. Unfortunately, the arrest attempt had gone to hell resulting in the death of one agent and Don being slightly wounded himself. Rattled and off-balance, Charlie had fled to that damned unsolvable problem that he'd buried himself in when their mother was dying. Don had been angry to find that his brother was withholding his help and furious with himself for needing it in the first place. He'd gone to Charlie and tried to reason with him and had finally wound up yelling at him. Afterwards, when he'd calmed down, he'd felt like a jerk. He'd been so busy trying to get Charlie to listen, he hadn't truly heard what his little brother was trying to tell him.

Charlie blamed himself for how things had turned out. An agent had died and Don had come too close - and Charlie had been the one to put him there. Guilt, fear and anger had pushed the young man straight into N vs NP, a problem complex enough to keep his mind from dwelling on the unthinkable. As far as Charlie was concerned, Don had beaten the odds once and there was no way Charlie was going to put him in the same position again.

Fortunately, for all of them, Don had been more convincing than he knew. Charlie managed to marshal his fear and come through with a plausible motive for the series of robberies. The gang had been accessing information as well as money in order to set up one really big job. Although it was obvious that it scared the hell out of him, Charlie gave them the pieces they needed to lay a successful trap for the bank robbers. Don had been careful to emphasize that his training had lessened the odds that worried his brother so badly and had enlisted Terry's aid to help reinforce the notion. The operation had gone off without a hitch and they nabbed the whole gang. Their success did much to reassure Charlie that he could help his big brother without endangering him in the process.

Don learned a few things along the way as well. It had been a shock to find that Charlie was as fiercely protective of him as he had ever been for Charlie. It was also a little disconcerting to find out the lengths Charlie was willing to push himself if Don asked. He told himself it was just sibling rivalry. Charlie couldn't pass up a challenge from his brother. He might have left it at that if their father hadn't come by to see him during that damned sniper case and asked him to be careful of his brother and the things he wanted Charlie to do. Don had argued that Charlie was a grown man and was more than capable of making his own decisions. Alan had countered that with the fact that Charlie would worry more about disappointing Don than about personal consequences.

It had been a sobering thought that had turned absolutely terrifying later when the sniper they were pursuing wound up with Charlie in his sights. Fortunately, David's quick reflexes and Ian Edgerton's expertise with a rifle had kept the younger Eppes alive. Unimaginably relieved that his brother had escaped injury, Don had hustled a shaken Charlie off the scene as quickly as possible. Later, after he'd thanked Agent Edgerton and ripped David a new one for bringing Charlie to an unsecured site, he'd gone home to talk to his father and check on his brother. It was funny afterwards when he thought about it. Both he and his father had completely reversed their positions. Charlie seemed none the worse for wear and, by tacit agreement, neither brother mentioned the day's events to their dad.

Wednesday,

Executive Towers

Los Angeles, CA

2145 Local

Mac sat quietly and waited for Harm to speak. It had taken years but she'd finally realized that, despite his glibness in court, Harm sometimes needed time to marshal his thoughts before he spoke. Considering the topic, she was willing to give him all the time in the world.

Harm considered his words as carefully as any closing he'd ever done in court. The stakes were astronomically high and he needed to find the right words to break through that Marine wall of stubbornness. Obviously, telling Mac he didn't care if they didn't have kids wasn't the right approach although he had tried it numerous times from several different angles. The problem was that he was lying to both himself and her - and she knew it. What he wasn't lying about (and what he was having a hard time convincing her of) was the fact that he needed her more than he needed progeny. Dealing with childlessness would be painful, losing Mac would be devastating. It had taken him years to not only admit that to himself, but do something about it. He wasn't about to let her go.

Realizing that Mac was hellbent on 'saving' him, he'd decided early on that fighting fair wasn't going to be a priority. To that end, he'd done something Mac would never expect - he'd enlisted his parents' help. Needless to say, Trish and Frank were both thrilled to be included. They had suffered right along with their son and Mac over this latest blow and were more than willing to offer any assistance. As far as the two of them were concerned, Sarah MacKenzie was already their daughter-in-law. They tag-teamed Mac on a regular basis, calling or emailing on a variety of non-threatening subjects. In this, Frank actually had the upper hand. He and Mac had a mutual interest in the sciences and he scoured the internet for tidbits of information on paleontology and astronomy to share and discuss. Together, Frank and Trish kept Mac from withdrawing completely from their sphere of influence.

For Harm, it had been a relief to have someone sympathetic he could discuss problems with, bounce ideas off and occasionally vent. At first, he'd been focused solely on the various options for dealing with infertility until Trish had finally told him that he wasn't seeing the forest for the trees. It had taken him a bit but then he felt like smacking himself. A viable answer had been staring him in the eye from the very beginning: Frank and Mattie. Neither was 'family' in a biological sense and yet, he couldn't imagine his family without them. Now it was time to see how Mac felt about it.

Taking the plunge, he looked over at her, "Why do you keep in touch with Chloe?"

Mac stared at him in surprise. Whatever she had been expecting, this wasn't it. "She was my Little Sister, Harm, you know that."

"And you love her," Harm added for her.

She closed her eyes for a moment, realizing where he was now going, "Of course I do, but that's not the point here."

"Yes it is," Harm reached over to cover her hand with his. "Mac, there's all kinds of families out there. You love Chloe. I love Mattie. I'll admit it would have been nice to have our own baby but I can't stop loving Mattie any more than you can stop loving Chloe." He leaned in, becoming more intent, "There's a lot kids out there like Chloe and Mattie - if you're willing, we could have a dozen children."

"But they wouldn't be yours," Mac could feel tears threatening. This was the crux of the problem. There was very little chance she would ever be able to give him what she desired so badly. It was a knife in her heart that ironically twisted deeper as her love for Harm grew stronger.

"Of course they would," Harm's voice rang softly with conviction. "Mac, you of all people, should realize that biology doesn't make a family." He sat up straighter, "We've got love enough to spare. Why not spread it around? There are kids out there who need us and we need them. Why not go for it?"

"You're thinking about adoption?" It wasn't like the idea hadn't occurred to her also. She just didn't know if something like that would appeal to Harm and had been leery to bring it up. From all she'd read, the adoption process was expensive, frustrating and could easily take years. Would he want to go through all that? Would it be a constant reminder of what she couldn't give him?

Harm smiled at her, grateful she hadn't shot him down immediately. "We could do that eventually. I was thinking along the lines of fostering. There's plenty of kids in the system right now who could use a stable home life. I'll bet Emma could give us a hand. She's bound to have contacts with Social Services." He arched an eyebrow as his face took on an innocent expression, "Of course, it would be easier to get the ball rolling on this if you would make an honest man out of me. We wouldn't want to set a bad example for our kids." She stared at him silently for so long that his nerve began to falter. Oh dammit, had he been too flippant about this? Despite the tone he'd used, he was dead serious. Surely she knew that, didn't she? Finally, he couldn't stand it any longer, "Mac?"

She blinked slowly and then shook her head before giving him a somewhat teary smile, "You're sure this is what you want? I don't want you to feel that you have to, I'd understand."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "What I want more than anything is you. C'mon Mac, it's taken us nine years to get our heads out of our sixes and I, for one, am finally enjoying the view." His tone turned wistful, "Don't you want to enjoy the view with me?"

"More than you can possibly imagine." The weight she'd been carrying around seemed to lessen as she stared at his hopeful expression and her smile grew stronger, "What did I ever do to deserve a man like you?"

His answering smile was bright enough to light up the room as he pulled her into his arms. "Well, if you happen to have a minister stashed somewhere close, you could say that you married me."

... 89, 144, 233, 377, 610...


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Thursday,

UCLA Administration Building

Los Angeles, CA

0920 Local

David offered a polite smile of thanks to the clerk that brought Fawwaz's file over. As soon as she left, he opened it up and after a quick scan, handed a portion over to Charlie. Charlie shot an apologetic glance at Mac before beginning to read the file. From the moment David had joined the two at headquarters, he'd been polite but distant with the JAG officer.

Mac gritted her teeth and moved so that she could read over Charlie's shoulder. Sinclair was sorely trying her patience. If he didn't amend his behavior soon, she was going to have to give him a Marine-style attitude adjustment. Damn, she'd been in such a good mood this morning, too, despite a lack of sleep. It was a small price to pay. Harm had stayed with her last night and they'd talked for hours - well, not just talked. They hadn't resolved everything, there was still a lot to go over; but, for the first time since the devastating prognosis, she'd felt there was real hope for the two of them.

Charlie shifted slightly as Colonel MacKenzie - 'Mac' he told himself firmly - moved in next to him. She wasn't in uniform. He'd heard Don on the phone this morning agreeing that it would be best if she dressed as a civilian. If there was more to this McKlellan matter than a hate crime, they didn't need to wave a red flag at what might be left of a terrorist cell, whether it was foreign or domestic. Mac was dressed comfortably in jeans, tank top and a cambric shirt. She looked like a typical denizen of any university - a very attractive denizen. Commander Rabb was one lucky man. Giving himself a mental shake, Charlie determinedly refocused on the task at hand. He moved the papers over so they could both read easily and acknowledged her grateful look with a quick smile of his own.

He wasn't sure what to make of Sinclair's behavior. Charlie liked the Special Agent but David's attitude towards Mac bordered on rude. Don had explained why JAG was involved and he couldn't understand why David was taking personal offense when the officers were just following orders. It was illogical and detrimental to the investigation. Don would be seriously ticked when he found out about it and Charlie knew he would. His brother had an almost sixth sense when he was working a case and whether someone told him or not, he'd know something was off. The problem was that Charlie didn't really know what to do about it right now. It wasn't like he had any kind of authority over David.

Shaking his head slightly, Charlie returned his attention to the records in front of him. Quickly, he scanned the pages, looking at class schedules and records of previous years. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Akil Fawwaz was a typical student. His classes were normal for his major, there weren't any odd gaps or inappropriate courses. He stayed in a dorm, played junior varsity soccer and was a solid B student. Charlie shrugged a little and glanced back at Mac, "I don't see anything, do you?"

Mac shook her head, "Seems like your average student." She looked at David, "We should check his room and interview his roommates and friends."

Sinclair gazed at her for a few seconds and then nodded, "Sure, just remember this kid was the victim, not the criminal."

Mac gave him a long look and then took a deep breath, "Agent Sinclair, did I somehow give you the impression that I thought otherwise?"

David shifted a little, "Well, it's your Petty Officer that's been accused of killing him."

"He's not my Petty Officer," Mac's tone became considerably colder. Charlie's eyes grew wider and he began to unobtrusively edge away from the two.

"Okay, he's your Senator's Petty Officer," David scowled impatiently. "The point is you can't make Fawwaz into the bad guy here just to get McKlellan and the military off the hook."

Mac was on her feet in an instant, leaning towards the FBI agent, "Mr. Sinclair, if this is an example of how you conduct an 'unbiased' investigation, then I would say Senator Coughlin has every right to be concerned. You're making assumptions based on facts which are not in evidence and if this is the best you can do, I will request that you be removed from this case." Her voice grew quieter and more intense, "My JOB, Mr. Sinclair, is to discover what happened in that hotel room in Compton and then report my findings to my commanding officer. I don't give a tinker's damn who the evidence implicates. And as for you, I don't care what your personal opinion is of me or my profession but by God, don't get in the way of my investigation or you will find my boot prints on your six! Are we clear?"

She had to give the agent credit, he didn't flinch. He also didn't argue with her, which Mac considered more important. Maybe they could salvage this ad hoc partnership. She glanced over at Charlie and stifled a smile. The young man was looking at her with trepidation, apparently wondering if he was about to become collateral damage. She turned her attention back to David, her tone so normal that Charlie was now looking surprised, "Shall we go?"

David gave a non-committal shrug while he mentally berated himself. He'd let his feelings color his actions and given the JAG officer legitimate cause to tell him off. It didn't make him like her or the reason the military attorneys were involved any better but he could see where the Colonel would think she had valid concerns. For the good of the case, he needed to be more detached. Don wouldn't look kindly upon internal strife within the team. Speaking of which, he glanced over at Charlie, "Why don't you wait for us here? This probably won't take too long." The tone of his voice made it clear this was not as much of a request as it was an order.

Charlie looked at him in surprise, "I can't come? Why?" Mac was staring at the agent with the same expression.

David took a deep breath. Dammit, this wasn't going to go smoothly, "Charlie, you've got enough to do. You don't need to waste your time listening to us ask Fawwaz's friends routine questions."

"I'm already here. It's not wasting my time. The more data I have... " Charlie trailed off and then scowled. "Did Don tell you to do this?"

"He didn't have to. You were supposed to look at the school records and that's it. Nothing was said about going along during interviews. I can't take you with us." David took on a stubborn look.

Charlie's eyebrows came together as he tilted his head to one side. It was clear that he was annoyed, "Can't, or won't?"

Mac looked from one man to the other, "Will one of you tell me what is going on?"

Charlie turned towards her, "David is worried that Fawwaz's friends will turn into homicidal maniacs while I'm there and then he'll have to explain to Don what happened."

Mac stared at him in disbelief and then turned towards David, "Are you serious?"

"He's a civilian and he's my responsibility, Colonel. He is not going with us." David glared at her. It was certainly easier to get angry with the JAG lawyer than it was with Charlie.

"Dr. Eppes is not a child. He is a skilled consultant and a member of this team. He should stay with us," Mac countered firmly while lightly emphasizing Charlie's title. This was familiar ground. She'd been dealing with Harm's overprotectiveness from almost the first moment they met. She folded her arms and raised an eyebrow, "And if you think the UCLA campus is such a dangerous place, why would you want to leave him alone and unprotected?"

"I didn't say it was dangerous," David sputtered.

"So contrary to our earlier discussion, you DO think Fawwaz was part of a terrorist cell?"

"I didn't say that either!"

"Were you planning on arresting Fawwaz's roommate?"

"Why would I - No!"

Mac looked from David to Charlie and back, "So Dr. Eppes is - how shall I put this? Socially challenged? You're afraid he'll pee in the potted plants and embarrass the Bureau?"

"Don't be ridiculous!"

Her expression turned more serious, "Has Don Eppes given you reason to fear him to the point where you make irrational decisions concerning his brother?"

"No, of course not!" David stared at her in disbelief. How did this get so out of hand? "I'm not being irrational. It's just, oh, dammit! Look, Colonel... "

"So what you're saying is that there doesn't seem to be any reason for Charlie to stay behind. Good, I'm glad that's settled." Mac cut in. She turned to the young professor, "Ready?"

Charlie nodded, keeping his expression neutral. He'd rarely seen David so thoroughly frustrated but he couldn't find it in him to sympathize with the man.

Fifteen minutes later, they were walking down a corridor, looking at the room numbers. "315, here it is," David stepped up and knocked on the door. Fawwaz's roommate was from Kuwait and Mac had suggested that Sinclair do all the questioning. She had no idea how Americanized this kid might be but it was a safe bet that he'd be more comfortable talking to a man. Fortunately, Sinclair wasn't so annoyed that he wasn't willing to listen to her input. Mac gave him points for putting the case first and leaving the personal animosity behind.

They heard someone say, 'One moment' and then the door opened to reveal a young man dressed in warm-up pants and a UCLA soccer shirt. He looked curiously at the three people in the hallway, "May I help you?"

David held up his badge and ID, "Are you Rashid bin Asim?" The young man hesitated, then nodded, looking slightly worried. David tried a reassuring smile. He was used to that brief pause while people hurriedly scanned their lives, trying to pinpoint anything that would warrant a visit from the FBI, "We'd like to talk to you about your roommate, Akil Fawwaz. May we come in?"

For a moment, it looked like Rashid was going to refuse but then he shrugged and stepped backward, inviting them in. He glanced at the three as they entered. Mac noted that although he gave her a mere cursory look, he lingered on Charlie before returning his attention to David. Once they were inside, he turned and braced himself against the dresser, "What do you want to know?"

David hesitated a moment, "You know what happened to Akil?"

Rashid nodded sharply and scowled, "He was murdered. Have you caught the sharmute who did it?"

"We have a suspect in custody," David said calmly. "We're trying to get a clearer picture of what happened." He pulled out a small notebook, "How long have you known Akil?"

"A little over a year. What does that have to do with his killing?"

"We're just trying to fill in the background," David smiled disarmingly. "Were you two close?"

The young man began to look irritated, "I do not know what you mean."

Sinclair shrugged his shoulders, "I mean, were you friends? Would he have talked to you if he was worried or upset about something?"

Now it was Rashid's turn to shrug, "Maybe. We talked about many things. Classes, sports," he shot a glance at Mac and then quickly looked away, "Women, home, the usual things."

"You don't know of any problems he might have had with anyone?"

"No. I do not understand. You said you have the man who killed him."

"I said we have a suspect. We still have to prove he did it." David explained, his manner soothing. He glanced down at his notes, "Do you know why Akil was in the Compton area?"

"No," Rashid frowned. He looked away from David and his attention was once more caught by Charlie. His expression became one of puzzlement, "I know you, do I not?"

Charlie shook his head, "I don't believe we've met."

Rashid accepted that with a slight nod and shrug before turning back to David, "I do not know what else I can tell you. Akil was a good friend. He did not deserve to die."

Sinclair nodded, "You're right and that's why we're here." He looked down at his notes again, "Did Akil have a girlfriend?"

"Yes, but I do not think it was serious," Rashid looked mildly disapproving. When David raised an inquiring eyebrow, he elaborated, "She is American and a Christian. Her name is Debbie Atwater. I do not believe his family would have been happy to know they were dating."

David's response was interrupted by a sharp rap on the door followed almost immediately by man walking into the room. He was dark, thirtyish and also dressed casually in warm-up pants and a t-shirt. His look of irritation was quickly replaced by one of surprise at seeing the three other people in the room.

Charlie watched as the man turned his attention to Rashid and fired off a question in what the young professor could only assume was Arabic. That started a short and rapid dialogue between the two men. Charlie was interested to see how tense the pair became before the older man suddenly shrugged. Rashid relaxed as well and turned back to David, "Forgive me, this is my cousin Husam. I was supposed to pick him up at the library and as you can see, I forgot. Are we finished?"

Sinclair nodded, "Almost. When was the last time you saw Akil?"

Rashid stood silently for a few seconds, frowning a little in thought. Finally, he said, "Tuesday morning, around 9:00. I was leaving for a class and he was still in bed. I told him he needed to get up." He looked down at the floor, "He was not here when I got back."

"What time was that?" David looked at the young man intently. If they could narrow down the timeframe, it might prove or disprove the hate crime theory. It could be that Fawwaz hadn't meant to be in Compton at all, had gotten lost and been unlucky enough to cross paths with McKlellan.

"11:30." Rashid glanced at his cousin before looking back to David, "Is that important?"

"It might be," David looked over at Mac and Charlie as he pocketed his notepad. "Thank you, Mr. Asim. I appreciate your help." He pulled out a business card, "If you happen to think of anything else, please give me a call." Gesturing to the other two, he walked out of the room.

Mac waited until they were out in the parking lot before looking over at David, "Rashid is supposed to be from Kuwait, isn't he?"

David stopped and eyed her for a moment, "Yeah, so?"

Mac frowned, "He and Husam were speaking Farsi." At Sinclair's blank look, she elaborated, "Farsi is mainly spoken in Iran and a sizable portion of Afghanistan. Why weren't they speaking Arabic?"

David looked exasperated, "How would I know? Maybe his cousin is from Iran."

"They're watching us," Charlie cut in quietly. He kept his attention nervously fixed on Mac and David, "Why would they do that?" It was all he could do to keep his shoulders from hunching together. Even with the brief look he'd caught of Rashid and Husam at the dorm window, their intensity had been obvious and startling. It brought back memories of one of the neighborhood dogs that used to scare the hell out of him when he was little. Its stare had been that of a predator, too.

"Move," David ordered. They resumed walking. David dropped back slightly to shield Charlie and found Mac had drifted back as well. "Keep it natural, don't hurry." He turned his head to look at Mac and, at the same time, to see if he could spot the two men. No luck, the dorm was a regular rabbit warren of windows and he had no idea which one belonged to Asim. He sighed in frustration. Leave it to Charlie to know precisely where their room would be. "I can't see if they're still there. I don't know where to look."

"Could you spot them again, Charlie?" Mac asked quietly. It seemed ridiculous that the rather innocuous interview could have inspired any sort of violence from bin Asim and his cousin, especially in the middle of the UCLA campus, but these days you just couldn't tell.

Charlie looked over his shoulder at her, "Yes."

"Colonel, I don't think it's a good idea to let them know we've seen them," David frowned. Dammit, why the hell had he listened to this frustrating woman? Now look what had happened! The last thing he wanted to do was put Charlie in any sort of jeopardy. He'd made that mistake once during the sniper case and he had no intention making it again. He'd never forgive himself if anything happened to the younger Eppes and after the ass-chewing he'd gotten from Don for nearly getting Charlie killed, he knew Don would never forgive him either.

"I think you're right," Mac agreed. She looked at Charlie, "Stop and tie your shoe." She pointed at his foot when he gave her a startled look, "Kneel down for a second and tie your shoe."

Charlie nodded quickly and knelt down to begin fiddling with his shoelace. Mac positioned herself to continue shielding him and offered David a tight smile as the agent took up a defensive position as well. It was definitely better to be paranoid than sorry. They could feel stupid about it later. She looked down at Charlie, "Can you see them?"

Charlie turned his head slightly so he could peer around her legs, "Yes... no... there's only one at the window now and I can't tell who."

"Okay," David motioned for Charlie to get up. "Let's get to the car and get out of here. We can try to figure it out later." They made it to the SUV without incident and David got them off the campus as quickly as possible. Once they were on the road, all three breathed a sigh of relief. Charlie leaned back against the seat, finally able to relax and consider what he'd seen. He was pretty sure he hadn't misread their expressions, even at a distance, but now he was considering the context. Perhaps they had problems dealing with foreign authority. From there, he jumped to the language anomaly, "Mac?" He waited for her to turn and look back at him, "Do you speak Arabic as well as Farsi?"

Mac grinned at him, most people would have just asked about the Farsi. This kid was bright. "I'm fluent in Farsi and I can get by in Arabic. There are a number of similarities."

Charlie leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "Really? Do you speak other languages as well?"

She nodded, "Russian, some German and a smattering of Japanese. How about you?"

"French, German, Latin, Greek - although most of it has to do with math." Charlie grinned, "You could say I'm only fluent with mathematicians."

Mac's eyebrows rose in an innocent manner, "Does that include English?"

Charlie stared at her for a second and then chuckled, shaking his head, "Touche."

"What were they saying, Colonel?" David interrupted.

Mac's gaze lingered on Charlie a moment longer before she looked over at David, "Husam wanted to know what was going on. Rashid told him we were government police asking about the killing. Husam was worried about the questions you asked and Rashid assured him that everything was fine." She paused for a moment and then shook her head, "I suppose that could be taken a number of ways." Mac hesitated briefly before continuing, "Rashid is also pretty positive he knows Charlie but he can't remember where." She looked back at Charlie, "You sure you don't know him?"

Charlie shrugged, "I've never met him personally. Maybe he attended one of my lectures."

David looked in the rearview mirror, "Or he's seen your picture. Charlie, you're pretty famous in the academic world, has any of those bios mentioned your consulting work?"

"I don't usually read them. They might, but I'm sure it would be pretty general - something like: 'consults with a number of agencies'. I've worked with a lot of different departments of the government." He looked from David to Mac, "Would it matter? If he does remember where he saw me or figures out who I am, he'll just know I'm a mathematics professor at CalSci."

David heaved a frustrated sigh, "Who happened to accompany an FBI agent during the investigation of his roommate's death. Charlie, if he figures out who you are, he'll also know how to find you." His fingers beat a rapid tattoo on the steering wheel, "Man, Don is going to be pissed."

"Why?" Charlie was beginning to feel irritated again. He expected Don to over-react and usually let the over-protectiveness of the other agents slide, too. He was Don's little brother and they tended to be careful with him. Sometimes, though, it made him feel like he was six and he didn't particularly enjoy it. "We don't know anything yet. I might have over-reacted to what I saw. Maybe those two were just feeling paranoid about being visited by the FBI. This isn't their country, maybe they're worried they're about to be railroaded." He folded his arms, "Before we decide they're some sort of terrorist cell, don't you think we ought to check them out? And until we have some information one way or another, I don't think we need to bother Don about it."

"Charlie," David sounded resigned, "You know how angry Don will be when he finds out we didn't keep him informed?

"Look, I'm not saying we don't tell Don. I'm saying we check out all the facts first and then tell him. Doesn't that make more sense?" Charlie sounded like he did when he was trying to explain one of his equations to the mathematically-challenged.

Mac looked over at David, "He has a point. Right now, all we have is that they spoke Farsi instead of Arabic and they watched us leave. I know it didn't seem so at the time but when you get right down to it, it's not much."

"Alright, we'll see what's in the database for Rashid and see if we can find Husam as well. And then we will tell Don everything, is that clear?" Sinclair shook his head as the other two glanced at each other and nodded their agreement. How the hell had he wound up as odd man out?

Husam looked at his 'cousin', "Well?"

Rashid shook his head, "I am not sure. They are gone?"

"Yes, they went right to their car and left," he paused, "I do not like that one was familiar to you. What if he somehow knows you?"

"That does not make sense. He said he did not. Why bring him here merely to lie?" Rashid frowned, where had he seen that face before?

"Try to remember, Rashid, we cannot afford mistakes." Husam turned on his heel and left. He would have to contact his superiors and the others to formulate contingency plans. It had been the height of bad luck walking into Rashid's room while there were federal agents there. They would need to be ready for anything.

...987, 1597, 2584, 4181...


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I forgot to add this on the last chapter (and it holds throughout the story) - thank you to all who took the time to comment. I appreciate it. Reviews or not, I do hope everyone is enjoying this.

I also wanted to give those of you with author alerts a heads-up. I'm thinking about posting a story on another fandom (it's been done for a while, now) and I don't want you to be disappointed when it's not Catspaw. This story will probably continue on the current schedule of posting every 5 days or so - barring RL interruptions. Sorry, I'm just a terribly slow writer.

Chapter 5

Thursday,

Command Judge Advocate

Building 1, NAS Point Mugu

Ventura, CA

1340 Local

Don leaned back and stretched, feeling the joints pop in his shoulders. They'd interviewed McKlellan's co-workers and his supervisor, as well as the base JAG first assigned to the case. They had a clearer view of the Petty Officer but nothing concrete about his activities on the day of Akil's murder. He'd been on leave and hadn't told anyone of his plans. Unfortunately, the DNA from the blood on McKlellan's pants hadn't matched the victim and some of it had been his own. Since there was a good five hour window as to when he could have gotten the blood on him, it was hard to say if they'd ever figure out where it came from. There'd been any number of assaults, muggings, accidents and homicides that day. Apparently, most of LA had been in a bad mood. At any rate, using that angle to tie McKlellan to Fawwaz was a dead end. Don looked over at the Commander, "What do you think?"

Harm glanced down at the papers in front of him and then leaned back as well, "I think it was more interesting hearing what some of these people weren't saying about 'good ol' Brad.'"

Don nodded, "I get the feeling our Petty Officer thinks he's some sort of wiseguy. You figure he's into the black market?"

"It wouldn't surprise me," Harm frowned slightly. "Unfortunately, that doesn't help us with Fawwaz's murder. We still can't connect the two." This was one of the more frustrating investigations he'd been on lately. Despite the hard time he'd given Eppes earlier about judging McKlellan too quickly, his instincts were telling him that the agent had been right. The Petty Officer was involved somehow or other. Harm snorted inwardly, this was one piece of information he wasn't going to enjoy sharing with Mac. How that woman could convey such a devastating 'I told you so' just by lifting an eyebrow was still a mystery to him.

"Well, maybe Fawwaz was a customer and he did something to tick McKlellan off." Don drummed his fingers on the table in annoyance. Despite a considerable amount of effort (and privately, he was willing to admit that he and Rabb worked well together), all they had were conjectures and theories. Dammit, no one could be that thorough covering their tracks while committing a murder. As galling as it might be, he supposed Rabb might have been right all along. Maybe they couldn't connect McKlellan and Fawwaz simply because there was no connection.

Harm leaned forward again to rest his elbows on the table, "Anything's possible. Although, if he is into the black market, he needs help. Everything's computerized these days and I don't think McKlellan's enough of a computer geek to alter records and hide what he's doing. I would guess he's either paying or intimidating someone into doing his dirty work for him."

"Can we get the supply records? This kind of thing is right up our alley. We've got forensic accountants and computer experts who can tell us if anything odd is going on." And if they couldn't, Don was willing to bet that Charlie would be able to find anything there was to find.

"We'll have to talk to the base CO and get his approval." Harm rubbed his chin, "It would be best if we kept this under the radar. If there is something going on, I wouldn't want to tip anyone off." He stood up and began putting the papers in his briefcase. "Let's get going. The sooner we get those records, the sooner we'll figure this out."

"Sounds good to me," Don stood up as well and waited while Rabb closed his briefcase and picked up his cover. "When do you want to talk to McKlellan?"

Harm shrugged as he tucked his cover under his arm, "Not too much later, I suppose. I'd like to know as much as possible before we start questioning him. If he is into something shady maybe we can use the leverage to shake something loose about Fawwaz." He shot a sideways look at Eppes, "Mac will want to be there when we interview him. She wouldn't be particularly happy if we went ahead without her."

Don couldn't help smirking slightly, although he wisely kept his mouth shut.

Harm eyed the agent, "Smile all you want. I've seen angry Marines before and it's not pretty. Think grizzly bear with PMS."

"Ouch," Don chuckled and then nodded, "Okay, we'll wait for the Colonel." He was puzzled to see a slight scowl pass across the Commander's face and immediately grew serious, "What's wrong?"

Harm gave him a startled glance, "What?" He shook his head, "Nothing, I was just thinking."

Don eyed him critically, "Is there something else going on here that I need to know about?"

Harm looked at the other man in mild annoyance. Eppes' expression told him the agent wasn't going to leave it alone until he had a satisfactory answer. "Look, let's just say I've had enough arms smuggling cases to last me a lifetime."

Don raised an eyebrow, "We don't know that McKlellan's smuggling arms. He could be ripping off computer equipment and toilet paper."

"See, you're right. I'm jumping the gun. Let's go talk to the CO." Harm turned and headed for the door, relieved he didn't have to go into specifics. It had been a stupid worry anyway. Admiral Jacobs had been dead for three years now and so was the Archangel network.

Don followed after, watching the taller man with interest. That had been an unusual reaction. It would be one more thing to check into when he accessed the files on Rabb and MacKenzie.

It was another two hours before they finally exited the base at Ventura. Harm followed Don's SUV as they headed back to the FBI office. The CO hadn't been pleased to find out there might be more of a problem on his base than one possibly homicidal Petty Officer but he hadn't shirked his responsibilities either. He'd called Supply and Requisition while they were still in his office to expedite the copying of the records. After that, he'd politely thrown them out with the unspoken agreement that they'd let him know what they found.

Harm sighed to himself and fidgeted slightly as they waited at a traffic light. Did the government purposely pick the most uncomfortable cars for use by the military? The light turned green and he accelerated smoothly, keeping a precise distance behind the SUV. Having McKlellan in the black market could give this case a more unpleasant twist as well as bringing potential terrorism back into play. Mac wasn't going to be happy. Hell, he wouldn't be happy either. He glanced quickly at his briefcase where the CDs from Supply were before returning his gaze to the SUV and shook his head. He needed to stop anticipating the worst. It was keeping his nerves stretched taut and at some point, something would have to give. Harm leaned back into the headrest and resettled himself in the seat, trying to find a more comfortable position. He'd felt somewhat off-balance almost from the moment he'd set foot in California and it needed to stop. His safety, and Mac's, depended upon his ability to assess and respond to any sort of threat. This jumping at shadows was irritating and, ultimately, dangerous.

At least Eppes hadn't been half bad to work with. The man knew his job but hadn't had that annoyingly superior 'I'm a Fed and you're not' air that always set Harm's teeth on edge. Surprisingly, his gut reaction was that Don Eppes was someone who could be trusted to have his back. His first impressions of the rest of Don's team had been favorable as well. It was apparent that Granger was ex-military. There'd been an instinctive straightening of posture when he saw the two officers. Megan Reeves had been pleasant and friendly and Harm had no intention of underestimating her insight and intelligence. Her casual small talk while they waited for Don and Charlie had been aimed at discovering as much as she could about the two JAG officers. By unspoken agreement, he and Mac had cooperated, figuring it would benefit their working relationship.

Harm snorted, remembering the one potential flaw in this partnership with the Feds and wondered how Mac had fared with Charlie and Sinclair. He wasn't particularly concerned about the young professor but even in the few minutes he'd spent in Sinclair's presence this morning, he'd picked up a definite attitude. Harm shook his head, that would fly with Mac for about ten seconds before she let the agent have it. He couldn't help a small smile. This had been Mac's idea after all. It seemed fitting that she would get the problem child and not him. Sinclair would be lucky to still have his head attached to his shoulders if he was foolish enough to antagonize the Marine Colonel.

Thursday,

595 Puller Lane,

NBVC

Ventura, CA

1520 Local

McKlellan paced restlessly in his living room. Could things have gotten any worse? His grandfather, that well-meaning SOB, had screwed him again. His mother had called earlier to deliver what she thought was marvelous news. Her father had pulled in a number of favors and gotten two of the top investigators at JAG to look into his case. They would clear him of those ridiculous charges in no time at all.

Alarmed, he'd called the shyster attorney his father had given him to see what he could find out. What he'd learned had done little to set his mind at ease. Rabb and MacKenzie were every bit as good as their reputations said they were. Rabb, especially, was known for his almost uncanny ability to ferret out the truth in a situation. McKlellan wasn't nearly as concerned about the Feds - the old man's money had purchased the good will of a number of politicians and judges over the years. If this stayed a civilian matter, he doubted he'd ever see the inside of a courtroom. The military, on the other hand, was just what he didn't need. Those JAG officers could bury him. There was no way in hell he was going down for exercising his right to free enterprise.

McKlellan dropped onto the sofa and contemplated the two pre-paid cellphones his lawyer had gotten him. It hadn't taken much to convince the man that they were necessary. Drop a couple of hints of government conspiracy and a possible vendetta against the McKlellan family and the logical conclusion that Big Brother was monitoring his phone calls wasn't that great a leap. Now he had untraceable access to the outside world. It was time to call in a favor or two and take a proactive strike at the two people capable to putting him in Leavenworth for a very long time. Fortunately, he knew just the people who would be crazy enough to try it and cunning enough to disguise it as something else.

Thursday,

FBI Headquarters

Los Angeles, CA

1725 Local

Harm and Don walked into the office and stopped at his desk. Don held out his hand, "Give me those CDs and I'll get our forensic people started on them."

Harm nodded and pulled the disks out, "Mind if I take the copies? Mac and I can look over them, too."

"Go ahead, the more eyes we have on this, the better," Don pulled an evidence envelope out of his desk drawer, dropped the CDs in and began filling out the information on the front.

Harm scanned the office and frowned slightly, "I don't see Mac or Sinclair."

Don looked up and glanced around the office, "Maybe they're in one of the conference rooms. They had to be back before 1:00, Charlie had a class at 2. Let me get this on its way and then we'll go find them."

"Okay," Harm leaned his hip against the edge of the desk and folded his arms. "How long has your brother been teaching?"

"Seven, no, eight years. He was tenured about six years ago," Don said absently as he sealed the envelope.

Harm's eyebrows rose a little, "So he's older than he looks?"

Don finally looked up at the Commander, "He's twenty-nine. He graduated from high school the same day I did and went to Princeton when he was thirteen. Anything else you need to know?"

"Hey, no," Harm held up his hands up in a gesture of surrender, "Sorry, just making conversation."

Don heaved a sigh and then waved a hand, "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped." He leaned back in his chair and looked at Harm, "Charlie is a bona-fide genius and growing up with him wasn't easy. You have any brothers or sisters?"

"A half-brother," Harm folded his arms again, amazed that the young man he met last night was anything out of the ordinary.

"You get along?"

Harm hesitated and then decided what the hell. Eppes could have blown him off. His brother was obviously a somewhat sensitive area even though it had appeared to Harm the night before that they got along well. He shrugged, "So far. I didn't know he existed until a couple of years ago."

Don's eyes widened as the implications sank in, "Look, man, I didn't mean to... "

"No, it's okay. It's not quite what you think," Harm shook his head, "The short story is that my dad was a Navy pilot who was shot down and declared MIA during Vietnam. I found out about five years back that he'd been a POW and had been transferred to the Soviet Union. He eventually escaped and was taken in by a Russian farmer and his sister." Harm's gaze dropped to the floor, "Dad was killed a year or two later stopping some soldiers from raping the woman. He's buried somewhere in the Tiaga. Two years ago I found out that he'd also had a son with the woman."

Don leaned back in surprise and stared at the tall Commander. Finally, he shook his head, "Don't take this wrong, Harm, but how the hell did you find that out? I know there's always been rumors, but I don't remember ever hearing any substantiated stories about American POWs in Russia."

Harm gave him a crooked grin, "It helps to know a rogue KGB officer."

"He just gave you information that was potentially damning for his country?"

Harm shrugged, "Let's just say he wasn't particularly pleased with the current political direction his country's been taking. He sent me a photo of my father taken in 1980 near a train station. It was enough of a lead to get me started."

"But," Don paused and then his eyebrows rose, "You went to Russia. Man, you're lucky you didn't disappear like your father. The KGB officer helped you?"

"Actually, just the opposite. He tried to kill us," Harm snorted. "He maneuvered us into stealing a MiG and then had it shot down. The 'official' story was that they let me test-fly a MiG as a courtesy. Then we supposedly ran into a flock of migrating geese and crashed."

Don didn't think his eyebrows could get any higher, "You stole a MiG? Wait a minute, 'us'?"

"Mac came with me," Harm stared at the floor for a moment, it was still amazing that she had gone so far for him. He looked at Don, "She insisted I'd get myself killed without her there to back me up." He sighed ruefully, "She was right, of course. I don't speak the language and she's fluent. If it hadn't been for her, I would have never known what happened to my father."

"Good god," Don shook his head as he stared at the Commander. What kind of life did this man lead that he could talk about being shot down so calmly? Obviously the two had survived, maybe it had been just enough damage that it forced them to land. David and Mac walked into the bullpen at that moment and Don shifted his focus back to the case. He was more curious than ever to see the Bureau files on these two JAG officers but he would wait until later to indulge himself. He nodded to his partner, "Hey David, what did you find out about Fawwaz?"

David glanced over at Mac who had positioned herself next to Rabb, "Not too much. Charlie didn't see anything in the school records that suggested Fawwaz was anything besides a student. His roommate said he was seeing someone outside of his faith, a Debbie Atwater. I've set up an interview with her for tomorrow afternoon." He took a breath, "Fawwaz's roommate, Rashid bin Amin, wasn't too happy to be talking to us. Amin's cousin, Husam, showed up while we were there. He didn't seem very happy either."

Don frowned slightly, "Was this the normal reaction to the FBI showing up or was it more?"

"Hard to say," David shrugged, "They're Muslim foreigners in a country that equates Arabs with terrorists and they were visited by government police. It could be that they're worried about being blamed for something because they're handy." He paused, looking over at Mac again, "I'm running a check on both men, just in case. Amin's a Kuwaiti national. I've got a line to our people over at the Embassy in Kuwait City to see what they can find out."

"We keep collecting more pieces but nothing that tells us why Fawwaz or McKlellan wound up in Compton." Don blew out a frustrated breath, "Okay, how about we call it a day? Maybe if we let it stew overnight, we can get a fresh perspective on it in the morning." He looked over at Harm, "That okay with you?"

Harm glanced over at Mac and picked up her silent assent, "Sounds good. Shall we meet back here at 0800?"

There were nods of agreement all around and then the two JAG officers said their goodbyes and headed out. Harm was quiet until they reached their requisitioned car. Opening the door for Mac, he went back around to the driver's side and got in. Before starting the engine, he turned to her, "You want to tell me what's bothering you?"

Mac gave him a wry smile, "So much for my poker face. Was it that obvious?"

Harm casually lifted a shoulder and let it fall, "I don't think the Feds noticed but then," he paused to give her a light smile as he grasped her hand, "they don't possess my keen sight and near-legendary deductive capabilities."

"'Near-legendary'?" One corner of her mouth quirked upwards as Mac tried to maintain a serious demeanor.

"I was trying not to brag," Harm's attempt at humbleness was ruined by a cocky grin. When she shook her head in amusement, he leaned forward a little, "Seriously, are you okay? Did something happen?"

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, "I'm fine - really." Mac glanced around the parking garage, "Let's get back to the hotel and I'll tell you everything. We're going to have to check in with the General anyway."

Reluctantly, he released her hand, "Right. I need to fill you in on what Don and I found out, too." Throwing the car into gear, he backed out of the parking space and headed for the ramp that would take them out of the garage. Pulling out onto the main thoroughfare, he turned towards their hotel. Neither of them paid any attention to the cab across the way that pulled out as they passed and followed them down the street.

Thursday,

Undisclosed location

Los Angeles, CA

1730 Local

Husam leaned against the wall and watched a ragged and filthy old man weave a drunken path through the refuse that littered the alleyway. His lip curled slightly in disgust as he returned to his vigil. Why in the name of all that was holy did his employer insist upon these ridiculous locations? Husam could understand making McKlellan run all over LA. That son of a donkey needed his arrogance pricked, needed to be shown that he was only a small cog in the running of things but why did such actions have to apply to Husam himself? It was insulting! His employer was as wealthy as Midas, they could have their meetings in a civilized setting. Husam's scowl grew for a moment before he sighed and his features smoothed out once again. It was not his place to question. He'd been hired to do a job and was being paid handsomely for it. He would tolerate the rest.

"Why did you want to see me?"

Wad al-Haraam! Husam's head whipped around and he stared at the old man he'd dismissed earlier, "I did not know that was you."

"That was the point," the man's voice was tinged with disdain. "Why?"

Husam glanced away for a moment, "There has been a complication. Federal agents came to see Asim today. I walked in not knowing they were there."

"Do they know anything?" The voice grew quieter and more deadly.

"No. They have a suspect in Fawwaz's killing and it was part of the investigation. They think it's a hate crime. Asim handled it well." Husam did his best to seem calm and in control. His heart was beating wildly. He'd had occasion to see his employer's temper once at the beginning of their relationship and he had no wish to experience it himself. "Asim thinks he knows one of the men that came to see him but cannot remember where he might have met him. It is probably nothing."

"It had better not be," the man frowned. "I have too much invested in this." He fixed Husam with a withering stare, "Take care of it - all of it - or I will."

Husam nodded hurriedly, "I will see to it." He let go a quiet sigh of relief when the man nodded abruptly and left. Turning, he made his way out of the alley in the opposite direction. That hadn't been as bad as he feared. He would contact the others in the group and put them on alert. Asim would eventually remember and then he would handle it. If this man posed a problem, it would have to be dealt with delicately. The last thing he needed was to attract any more attention from the FBI.

Husam frowned at that thought. How, in Allah's name, had the police found Fawwaz so quickly? There should have been at least one day before someone noticed the smell and with the milder weather they were experiencing, Husam had assumed it would have taken two. His scowl deepened, either they'd had extraordinarily bad luck and someone at the hotel had not only realized a murder had taken place, but had called the police as well, or - someone had betrayed him. He would have to do some investigating on his own and if there was a traitor in their midst, the man's death would be as painful as Husam could manage.

Reaching the street, he casually glanced in all directions before striding briskly up the block. There was no way he would let this mission fall apart - not after he'd invested so much time and effort. This was one of the most lucrative jobs he'd picked up in years. He snorted softly to himself, as much as he hated the arrogance and ignorance of America, his employer - a native, no less - hated it more.

He was halfway to his car when another disturbing thought occurred. Fawwaz's girlfriend! Asim had mentioned her name to the FBI agent. Husam frowned as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. Once his intended party had answered, he quickly outlined what had to be done. After receiving nearly the same assurances he'd just given to his employer, Husam snapped the phone shut headed back to the UCLA campus. There was much to do.

...6765, 10946, 17711, 28657, 46368...


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Thursday,

Eppes residence

Pasadena, CA

1845 Local

"Dad? Charlie? Anybody home?" Don called as he walked into the comfortable, old Craftsman house. While he had understood and supported his father's decision to sell the family home, he also couldn't help the relief he'd felt when Charlie had turned around and bought the place. If he were completely honest with himself, there was a slight trace of envy, too. There was no way he could have done what his little brother did - paid cash for the house, not with his government salary. Charlie had one-upped him again.

"Out back." Alan Eppes' voice carried clearly through the house.

Stopping at the refrigerator to grab a beer, Don walked out to the back patio. His father and brother were comfortably settled on a couple of lounge chairs, a small table and a bottle of wine between them. Don eyed the both of them and smiled, "You two look smug. Is this something I shouldn't be hearing in an official capacity?"

Alan raised an eyebrow at him and turned to Charlie, "Does this sound like the sort of respect a man should expect from his eldest son?" Charlie solemnly shook his head, his dark eyes glinting with laughter. "I didn't think so." Alan turned back to Don and wagged a finger at him, "For your information, there has not been nor is there anything illicit going on." He waved an expansive hand, "We are merely two gentlemen enjoying a fine California evening."

Don pulled up a chair, "And a liberal amount of wine. What's the occasion?"

"Does there have to be an occasion?" Alan gave Don an appraising look, "You know, Donnie, being a Federal agent has made you a highly suspicious person."

"Okay, all right," Don good-naturedly held up a hand in surrender and took a swig of his beer, "Have it your way. You're two gentlemen enjoying a fine California evening."

"And a very fine bottle of wine," Charlie added, lifting his wineglass. Alan obligingly refilled it, topping off his own in the process. Charlie took a sip and sighed appreciatively. He looked over at Don and grinned, "Did you know that Dad has an admirer?"

"Do tell," Don leaned back, falling comfortably into the "Harass Your Parent" routine that most children seemed to learn instinctively. He raised his eyebrows in polite inquiry, ignoring the look on his father's face.

"She sent the wine," Charlie took another sip. "She has very good taste."

"Undoubtedly," Don agreed. "She chose Dad, didn't she?"

"A good point," Charlie nodded and then frowned slightly, "Although one might wonder at her motives - plying an older gentleman with spirits, as it were."

"True, there may be a question about her moral fiber." Don made a show of reaching for his cell phone, "Perhaps I should have a background check run."

"All right you two, that's enough." Alan huffed, "She happens to be a very nice lady."

"Does this nice lady have a name?" Don directed his question to Charlie who shrugged his shoulders. The two brothers turned to look at their father with identical inquiring looks.

"It's Deirdre, Deirdre Hoffs," Alan leaned back, looking smug. "She's a chef and owns a little restaurant downtown. Deirdre also volunteers at the shelter. We happened to wind up there on the same day and got to talking. One thing led to another and, well, we had a date."

"You did?" Don stared at his father in surprise. He looked over at his brother, "Did you know?"

Charlie shook his head, "Dad seems to be taking lessons from you. He's been very secretive."

Mindful of the comically disastrous dinner date that had nearly stopped his father's return to dating altogether, Don's innocent look was belied by an impish glint, "How'd it go? Was duck on the menu again?"

"Ha ha, very funny, young man," Alan mock-growled. He'd often found himself wincing at the memories of that terrible evening. He still felt guilty even though it had been a completely understandable mistake. What he'd heard was that his date liked duck - which had dictated the choice of entree he'd prepared. The reality had been that she liked ducks - as pets. There were times when he thought he could still hear her horrified scream. "It so happens we had a lovely meal at her restaurant."

"Wait a minute," Don couldn't help grinning at his father, "You took your date to dinner at HER restaurant? Did you make her cook your food, too?"

"She did not," Alan looked indignant, "And for your information, it was Deirdre's idea. Her daughter's a chef, too. She cooked for us and then we went dancing."

Charlie sputtered the wine he'd just drank and looked at his father in surprise, "You went dancing?"

"I did. Don't sound so amazed. Your old man still has some moves left. Art Stanley told me about a dance club that holds weekly dances. The good stuff like foxtrots and rumbas. We had a great time and we're going out again this week." Alan settled back in his chair and took another sip of wine, looking pleased with himself.

Don glanced over at Charlie, "You realize, at this point, he's doing better than either of us."

"Don't remind me," Charlie grimaced. Deciding that a change of subject was in order, he raised an eyebrow at his brother, "How did your day go with the Commander?"

"Not bad, surprisingly." Don took another swallow of beer.

"Really? I thought you two would wind up hitting each other." Charlie looked over at his father, "Commander Rabb didn't seem that happy to be working with the FBI."

"Yeah, well, he's had a few bad experiences with a couple of agents in the DC office. He's actually an okay guy." Don shook his head. Pressed for time, he'd asked Megan to check into their JAG officers, knowing he could rely on her discretion. She'd handed over her report with admirable aplomb, giving him no clue as to what she had discovered. What he'd read had floored him. (He'd also made a mental note never to play poker with Reeves.) Rabb and MacKenzie weren't your average desk-jockey lawyers.

Charlie considered that statement and then smiled, "You checked their records. So, are they here because they're good investigators?" His own opinion, based on his short time with the Colonel, was that the two JAGs weren't going to whitewash anything but he wanted to know what Don thought.

Don snorted, "They're good, believe me. I'm surprised they don't carry a phone booth around to change in."

Alan looked from Don to Charlie, "I thought you said they were military lawyers."

"They are, but they also investigate and these two are an unbelievable team." Don absently rolled the beer bottle around in his hands. An amazing amount of what they'd done was classified, including the infamous Archangel case, but the Elbert investigation was public record, "Remember that Congresswoman last year that turned out to be leading a double life? Politician by day, serial killer by night?"

Charlie looked blank but Alan's eyebrows rose in surprise, "I remember that! That woman was nuts! How long had she been getting away with it?"

"Years. She was nuts but she was brilliant. Guess who finally brought her down?" Don leaned back.

Alan rubbed his chin, trying to remember the details, "It was another woman, wasn't it?"

"A woman Marine. A Lt. Colonel to be exact, and her partner - a Navy Commander." There had also been agents with NCIS but that wasn't pertinent to this conversation.

"Rabb and MacKenzie." Charlie supplied, looking impressed. "Well, I guess you don't have to worry about holding their hands with this case, do you?"

"No, I don't think that will be a problem." Don took another pull at his beer and leaned back in his chair. What worried him was the mayhem that seemed to follow these two. It probably had more to do with the nature of the cases they investigated rather than any sort of cowboy tendencies. The matters they pursued were high-stakes and the people they went after were often ruthless. Either way, Don didn't want his brother caught in the middle if things suddenly went to hell. He was going to have to find a way to separate Charlie from this investigation that was plausible to both his brother and the JAG officers.

Thursday,

Executive Towers

Los Angeles, CA

1920 Local

Harm knocked lightly on Mac's door, "Hey, you ready to go?" The door opened a few seconds later and he couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. Even though Mac was only wearing a simple sundress, she still managed to take his breath away.

"Earth to Harm."

He blinked and realized she was leaning against the doorframe, smiling cheekily at him. Shifting so that he could rest a forearm against the frame just above her, he let his grin widen and raised an eyebrow, "How about we skip dinner and go right for dessert?"

Mac shook her head and gave him a mischievous look, "That's a tempting idea, Commander, but if I don't refuel soon, it won't be much of a dessert." She couldn't help laughing at the alacrity with which she found herself being escorted down the hallway to the elevators. "Are you trying to tell me something, Harm?"

He looked down at her with an innocent expression, "Who, me? Nah, I just realized how hungry I was."

"Uh-huh."

Harm grinned down at the loaded tone in Mac's voice and answered her in kind, "I can wait 'til after dinner." He chuckled at the look on her face and put an arm around her shoulders as they entered the elevators. His smile grew wider as he felt her nestle comfortably against his side, sliding an arm around his waist. Reluctantly, they broke apart when the elevator opened but continued to hold hands as they strolled out of the lobby. The concierge had recommended a Thai restaurant only three blocks from the hotel and it seemed silly to use the car to get there. They chatted lightly as they walked, laughing about the latest antics of the ever-growing Roberts clan and discussing the new transfers to the staff. Harm was happy to see that Mac was a lot more relaxed about having Cresswell as a CO.

Thirty minutes later, Harm was enjoying his steamed fish with vegetables while Mac dug into her Mongolian beef. Swallowing a mouthful, he looked over at her, going back to a portion of an earlier conversation at the hotel, "So you think there might be something up with bin Asim?"

Mac shrugged a little, "I'm not sure. There could be a perfectly innocent reason for them to be speaking Farsi instead of Arabic. Maybe his cousin is originally from Iran or Afghanistan. From what David was able to find out so far, there isn't anything on Asim other than that he's here on a student visa. Husam is a different story. We only have a first name and that's making it harder to track him down."

Harm frowned, "Wouldn't Husam be listed somewhere as part of the Asim family?"

"Not necessarily. Husam could be a second cousin twice removed or something even more distant and he'd still be considered family."

"And I suppose he's not a student at UCLA?" Harm took a bite of his dinner and then washed it down with some tea.

"No, it doesn't appear so," Mac shook her head, taking another forkful of beef. "He looks a good ten years older. Maybe he's already graduated and he's acting as a mentor for Asim. They were both pretty tense but, like David said, it could just be paranoia about being visited by the FBI." She reached for her tea, "Actually, I was a little surprised by Asim's attitude. It was almost like they were equals and that shouldn't be - Husam is the elder." Mac paused for a moment and then leaped to another aspect. Harm was used to her shifts in conversation, "And then there's that business with them watching us leave. It was weird. Why would they bother? It's not like David accused either one of anything. He went out of his way to be as non-threatening as possible."

"Guilty consciences?" Harm tilted his head to the side, "It seems like a stretch but who can say? Maybe they've got parking tickets they don't want the Bureau to find out about."

"That must be it," Mac smiled as she sipped her tea, "You know, Charlie was really freaked but then he was the only one who actually saw them. I have no idea how he did it. There had to be at least fifty windows in that building and he knew exactly which one was theirs."

"Don says he's an honest-to-god genius. Did you know he went to Princeton when he was thirteen?"

"No kidding," Mac's eyebrows rose in surprise. "I figured he was bright. I mean, he is a college professor, but he seems like a pretty normal guy."

Harm nodded his agreement and then smiled, "How did you and Agent Sinclair get along?"

Mac gave him a bland look, "We discussed the parameters of my involvement. He was fine with it."

Spearing a piece of fish, Harm grinned at her, "Let's see - he said or did something stupid. You jumped on him with both feet. He didn't argue."

Propping an elbow on the table and resting her chin, Mac arched an eyebrow, "Something like that." She dropped her hand and went back to eating, "Although, speaking of paranoia, David's got a healthy dose when it comes to Charlie. For a minute, I thought he was going make the poor guy sit in the car while we talked to Asim."

Harm swallowed his latest bite of dinner and waved his fork, "Well, I can see his point. Charlie's a civilian."

"And Don's little brother, which I think was the bigger reason, but he's also a highly-skilled consultant. We interrupted his day to help out with this case and then he gets treated like he's a little kid? Charlie was ticked and I couldn't blame him." She went back to her dinner with a little more savagery.

"So what's bothering you?" Harm watched her mangle some of the beef.

Mac sighed and stared down at her plate, "I jumped right into it and bullied Sinclair into taking Charlie along. Now I think David may have been right. Asim recognized him but hasn't figured out from where. Once he does, he won't have any trouble locating Charlie over at CalSci."

"That probably doesn't mean anything," Harm pointed out gently. "You said it yourself, there might not be anything untoward going on. Don't go borrowing trouble." He gave her a mischievous grin, "I'm sure we can find enough of it on our own."

Mac shook her head, still looking at her plate, "God, isn't that the truth." She finally lifted her gaze and gave him a half-hearted smile, "When do you want to talk to McKlellan?"

Harm shrugged, "Soon." He took a breath, knowing there was probably an 'I told you so' coming his way. He'd managed to avoid this part of the conversation back at the hotel by keeping the focus on Mac's day. It had been nothing more than a delaying tactic. He knew it would have to go into the report for General Cresswell, "We still can't put him with Fawwaz but I'm beginning to think that Don was right about McKlellan being involved in some way. I'm pretty sure the guy's into something illegal like the black market. We got copies of the Supply records and Don's given them to his forensic accountants. Hopefully, they'll find something. I figure if McKlellan thinks we know more than we do, maybe he'll start talking in hopes of a deal."

Mac leaned back a little, swallowing a grin. Harm was patently expecting her to razz him about finally agreeing with the FBI. It was tempting but she would refrain. Doing the unexpected on occasion helped keep him on his toes. It wouldn't do to let her sailor become complacent. So instead, Mac zeroed in on Harm's proposed plan of action with McKlellan, "I don't know. Remember McKlellan's father has always bailed him out of trouble before. He might feel like he's untouchable."

Prepared to defend himself, Harm hurriedly switched gears, giving Mac a look at the same time. She grinned back at him, plainly enjoying his having to regroup. "He probably does," Harm conceded, "but he's in the military now. I think we should remind him just how different the rules of engagement are. If this is the first time he might have to face the consequences of his actions, I'll bet we can scare him silly."

"I suppose it's worth a shot. How soon will Don's people be done with the records?" Mac pushed away her plate, picking up her napkin and dabbing at her lips.

"The soonest would probably be tomorrow afternoon. There's a lot to go through." Harm finished the last of his dinner. "I've got copies back at the hotel." He waggled his eyebrows, letting his voice drop suggestively, "Would you like to come up to my place and look at my CDs?"

Mac leaned back with a grin, "Why Mr. Rabb, are you trying to seduce me?"

He matched her smile with one of his own, "Depends, is it working?"

Her grin grew wider, "Oh, yeah."

Harm couldn't help looking smug. They both straightened up when the waiter appeared with the check. Harm quickly paid and then he and Mac left the restaurant and headed back to the hotel. It was a beautiful night and Harm and Mac kept their pace to a leisurely stroll. They weren't the only couple out enjoying the evening. While not crowded by any means, there were still a fair number of people out and about. Harm draped an arm lightly across Mac's shoulders, grinning down at her and receiving one in return. It had been too long since they'd had time to take a walk together.

Their conversation reverted back to normal everyday matters. Mattie was seeing a boy from her chemistry class and Harm didn't approve - again. Mac was aware of the dilemma having received a phone call from a desperate Mattie. The teenager was certain she'd never be asked out for the rest of her life if someone (and that was Mac, as far as she was concerned) didn't talk some sense into the man. Mac took up Mattie's side to avert the feared social disaster as well as on general principles. The sooner Harm learned to tolerate the young men who were beginning to buzz around, the better it would be for all concerned. After she'd convinced him of that fact, Mac figured she could then grant Harm the concession of being allowed to scare the hell out of any hopeful suitors. It would most certainly weed out the faint of heart.

Harm snorted at Mac's contention that Mattie's dating was a perfectly normal occurence. He wasn't so old that he didn't remember how he and his friends were in high school. It was a wonder some irate father hadn't gone after them off with a shotgun. No way was some hormone-crazy boy going to be allowed to paw at Mattie. He'd pull out his own shotgun first. Harm was about to make that argument when the sound of a car rapidly accelerating caught his attention. He glanced over his shoulder and saw an old Cadillac El Dorado speeding down the street. As he started to turn back to comment to Mac, Harm caught a view of the back window sliding down in his peripheral vision.

Mac glanced up in mid-sentence to see Harm looking over his shoulder. She was about to tease him for his inattention when his arm tightened convulsively across her back. Everything seemed to happen at once. She heard Harm shout 'Gun!' at the same time the deafening racket of automatic gunfire erupted. The next moment she was being propelled violently forward as Harm kept hold of her while he dove for cover behind a parked car. She hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of her - a fact that was exacerbated by Harm landing halfway across her. A cacophony of sound assailed her as well adding to the mayhem. Later, she would be amazed at how distinct each sound was: the car engine roaring, the sharp staccato bark of an automatic weapon, glass shattering, the dull whump of slugs hitting metal, the sharp ping of others ricocheting on concrete and the screams of people caught in the attack. What terrified her was Harm's absolute silence after his initial warning.

...75025, 121393, 196418, 317811...


	7. Chapter 7

Here we go - sorry this was a little late. RL has a way of interfering and for some reason, my boss prefers I work rather than write. Go figure. Anyway, thanks to all for taking the time to review, I appreciate it. (BTW, the numbers at the bottom of each chapter are the Fibonacci sequence. It's just a fun thing and kind of interesting even though I am light-years away from being any sort of math geek.) As always, I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 7

Thursday,

Eppes residence

Pasadena, CA

2140 Local

Don leaned back, raising his hands in disgust, "I can't believe it!" He turned to look at his father, "Bases loaded, 1 out, he swings at 3-1 pitch and hits into a double-play. What was he thinking?"

Alan shrugged as he took another sip of his coffee, "You got me. With what they pay these guys, you'd think they wouldn't make those kinds of mistakes." It had been a quietly pleasant evening. Don had stayed for dinner and after helping clean up the dishes, had settled on the couch with Alan to watch the Dodgers play the Cardinals. Charlie, as usual, was sitting at the dining room table, going over some of his students' papers. If there was a discordant note, it was that the Dodgers were losing - badly.

"You know, statistically speaking, he was just as likely to hit it out of the park," Charlie chimed in without looking up from his work.

"Not tonight he wasn't," Don grunted sourly, "He bats .145 against this pitcher." His cell phone picked that moment to ring and Don sighed as he pulled it off his belt, "Eppes." He listened for a few seconds before shooting upright, his eyes wide, "What?! When?" Charlie and Alan exchanged looks of concern while Don listened intently, "Where are they now? ...Okay, uh-huh, ... I'm on my way."

"Donnie, what's wrong?" Alan asked as Don snapped his phone shut and rose hurriedly from the couch.

"That was the office. There was a drive-by shooting downtown. Four wounded, two dead." Don put his suit coat back on and went to retrieve his gun from the top of the refrigerator.

"That's terrible!" Alan watched as Don clipped the holster onto his belt, "But why did they call you? Aren't the police handling this?"

Charlie stood up, his eyes wide in alarm, "Downtown? It's Mac and Harm, isn't it?"

"Oh my god, the JAG officers?" Alan looked aghast as Don nodded. "Were they...?"

Charlie shook his head, "At least one of them had to alive and conscious to let someone know to call the FBI." He followed Don to the door, grabbing a light coat, "I'm coming with you."

Don turned back, "Charlie, no. We don't know what's going on. I'll call and give you an update when I find out what happened."

"If this has to do with our case, then I should be there to factor in any new data." Charlie argued. He hesitated slightly, looking down, "Besides, they're colleagues and Mac, well, we were becoming friends." He looked back up at his brother, "Don, please."

"Charlie," Don stared at his brother and then relented, "Fine, let's go." He turned to look at his father, "Sorry, Dad, it's probably going to be a late night."

Alan waved a hand, "Go. Just do me a favor and call if they're okay."

The ride to the hospital was mostly silent. Don had called David and sent him to the scene to get what information he could from the police. Now he was quietly reviewing where they were with the investigation. No matter how he looked at it, there didn't seem to be anything that would have triggered an attack on the JAG lawyers. Don shook his head in frustration. There really was no point in speculating, he simply didn't have enough information.

Charlie kept his eyes on the passing scenery. This seemed surreal. Could this shooting have anything to do with this morning? It didn't seem likely. Asim had barely acknowledged Mac's presence. Could Commander Rabb have been the target? If so, then it had something to do with the Petty Officer. But why go after the Commander? It didn't accomplish anything. Don had been there, too. He would know what Rabb knew. Charlie swallowed convulsively and shot a worried glance at his brother. Would these people go after Don next?

Twenty minutes later they arrived at the hospital. Don led the way to the receiving desk and pulled out his ID, "I'm looking for the victims of the drive-by shooting downtown. Are they here?"

"Yes sir," The receptionist nodded. It had been a fairly quiet evening until that group had been brought in, "Two of them are on their way to surgery. The other two are in Treatment Rooms 4 and 5. Sir! Wait! You can't go back there." Frustrated, he watched as the agent and his partner headed up the corridor. He wasn't about to get himself in trouble by calling security on the FBI. With a sigh, he sat back down. There must be more to this than just a random shooting if the Feds were involved. Maybe it was some sort of undercover operation. While the man who had spoken to him practically screamed 'Government Agent', the younger one was scruffy enough to have blended in anywhere.

Don walked briskly up the hallway, looking at the numbers above the doors. Reaching 4, he stopped and peered through the window. There was a young Hispanic man having stitches put into his leg. Glancing back at Charlie, he gave a slight shake of his head and moved to the next room. A quick look was all that was needed. Don opened the door and strode into the room, Charlie was right behind him. A middle-aged, slightly balding man turned towards the brothers with a scowl, "LAPD. This room is off-limits for now, gentlemen. You'll have to wait outside."

Don barely gave him a glance, flashing his ID, "FBI." He focused on the woman sitting on the exam table, "Mac? What happened?" He heard Charlie's soft intake of breath behind him. It was understandable, the Colonel was looking considerably worse for wear.

"Are you alright?" Charlie's query followed on the heels of Don's question.

The detective's frown grew deeper, "Look, unless drive-by shootings are now under Federal jurisdiction, you're going to have to wait until I've finished interviewing Ms. MacKenzie." The words were courteous enough but there was an edge running through it. Don kept his expression calm. The last thing he wanted was a pissing contest with the police and Mac certainly didn't need it.

"You mean Lt. Colonel MacKenzie," Charlie corrected the man, his tone flat. Don hid a wince. Charlie was normally pretty even-tempered but when he sounded like that, he was well on his way to being angry.

"It's alright, Charlie," Mac finally spoke. At this point, she didn't care what anybody called her so long as they finished quickly. She desperately needed to find out how Harm was doing. The only reason she was still in the exam room was the deal she'd made with one of the nurses. If she'd stay put, Nurse Kaskadarian would find out how Harm's surgery was progressing. She also promised to round up a change of clothes so Mac could get out of the bloodstained sun dress. That had been 9 minutes and 47 seconds ago. Mac was working on convincing herself that the delay had more to do with Kaskadarian having a job to do rather than any sort of complications involving Harm. She had decided to give the nurse a total of 15 minutes and then all bets were off. Unfortunately, Detective Cronin had walked in 93 seconds ago and blown her timetable right out of the water.

Unlike some of her experiences with other police detectives, Cronin had been neither rude nor accusatory. It was also obvious that he didn't expect much information from her. In truth, she didn't have much to give him. Harm had seen the car first and realized what was happening. Her first inkling had been the pavement coming up to meet her and the explosive sound of gunfire. Now Don and Charlie were here and Cronin was considerably more tense. Mac shifted the ice pack on her wrist and addressed the police officer, "If it's okay with you, Detective, I'd like them to stay. My partner, Commander Rabb, and I are attorneys with the Navy Judge Advocate General. We're coordinating an investigation with the FBI and Special Agent Eppes will need to know what happened."

Cronin's interest sharpened, "You think this had something to do with the case you were on?"

"No, I really don't see how," Mac shook her head and instantly regretted it. She didn't have a concussion but it was a helluva headache. She'd done her best to keep her forehead from colliding with the concrete but her wrist had buckled when Harm's weight landed on her, driving her left side into the pavement. She now sported a sprained wrist as well as abrasions and bruises on her head, shoulder and knee. Sun dresses weren't much protection against abrupt contact with pavement.

"Mac?"

Don left the rest of the question unvoiced but she knew what he was asking. Taking a deep breath to steady her voice, she stared at him with barely concealed anguish, "Harm was shot. I don't know how bad. No one will tell me anything except that he's in surgery."

"Let me see what I can find out. Charlie can stay here with you." Turning, he gave his brother a meaningful look along with a pat on the shoulder. Charlie nodded quickly and returned his attention to Mac and Detective Cronin. Don knew that everyone had just assumed his brother was also an agent. He was more than willing to take advantage of that fact. Charlie would be able to give him an accurate rundown of everything that was said in his absence and he would see if flashing the badge helped in prying loose information on Rabb. Hopefully, it would be good news. He didn't want to be the one to tell her if things didn't go well in surgery.

Thursday,

White Memorial Medical Center

Los Angeles, CA

2225 Local

Mac watched Don walk out and then turned back to Cronin, "What do you want to know?"

The detective shot a quick look at Charlie before focusing on Mac, "Why don't you run through what happened."

"Harm - Commander Rabb and I had finished dinner at the Jade Palace and were walking back to the hotel..."

"What time was this?" Cronin interrupted while scribbling notes.

"2106. 9:06," Mac switched over to civilian time. "We'd been walking for a couple of minutes when Harm looked back over his shoulder. I started to say something to him when he yelled 'Gun' and took us both down behind some parked cars. The shooting started at the same time. It lasted 23 seconds." She fell silent, reliving those awful moments when she realized Harm had been hit. The disbelief had almost overpowered the shock. This was a man who could dance between raindrops. He'd been in numerous situations that should have been fatal, probably would have been fatal for anyone else, and walked away with barely a scratch. It just wasn't fair. The sound of a throat clearing brought her out of her reverie.

Cronin was looking at her skeptically, "The shooting lasted 23 seconds?"

"Yes," Mac shifted the ice pack to her sore knee and hissed softly as the cold made contact with her skin.

"You're sure."

"Yes," Mac was beginning to become irritated. "The police arrived 2 minutes and 38 seconds later and the paramedics, 94 seconds after that."

"Making it what time?" Cronin eyed her in disbelief.

"9:12:34," Mac glared at the man, silently daring him to doubt her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Charlie frown and take half a step forward.

"Did you see the car at all?" Cronin backed off.

"No. Harm had me down on the ground before I could see anything." She paused, thinking, "It was an automatic weapon, probably a machine pistol."

Cronin raised an eyebrow, "I thought you said you didn't see anything."

"I have ears, Detective," Mac's patience was thinning.

"You could tell from the sound?" Cronin stared at her.

"I'm a Marine. I've been under fire before. It was a machine pistol. The sound was lighter than an automatic rifle and the shot pattern was all over the board. The idiot must have had it on full auto. I'm guessing he was hanging out the window or I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd shot up his own car." Mac shifted slightly and swallowed a groan. She was definitely getting stiffer. "Look, are we done? I don't have anything else to tell you that would help."

Cronin closed his notebook, "Yeah, we're done. Thanks." He paused and then continued awkwardly, "I hope your partner pulls through." He nodded to Mac and Charlie and walked out of the room.

Mac wasted no time gingerly sliding off the exam table. Charlie hurried forward, "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to find out about Harm," she grimaced as she took a careful step. Her knee wasn't happy when she flexed it.

"Mac, I don't think that's such a great idea. Why don't we wait for Don? He should be back any time now." Charlie hovered uncertainly, not quite sure how she would react if he touched her. "Are they keeping you overnight?"

"No, but I'm not leaving until I find out if Harm is going to be okay." She took another step. This one was a little easier. The door opened just then and Mac froze. Both Don and the nurse were standing there.

Marie Kaskadarian stepped forward with a scowl, "I thought we had a deal."

"How's Harm?" Mac asked at the same time.

"He's still in surgery." At Mac's look of exasperation, the nurse held up a hand, "I did talk to Dr. Mahari, our ER resident. Commander Rabb was hit in the upper left quadrant of the back, under the shoulder blade. It angled up, coming out just under the collarbone. He's a lucky man, it missed the vital organs and didn't break any bones."

Mac held herself very still, "So you're saying he's going to be okay?" When Kaskadarian nodded, the feeling of relief was so great that she actually staggered slightly. That jolted both of the Eppes men into action. Charlie was closer and got to her first, grabbing an arm to steady her.

Don reached her other side a second later, "Mac?"

"I'm fine," Mac only put up a token amount of resistance as the two men helped her back towards the exam table. Harm would live and she felt like crying. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she conjured up a slight smile for the brothers and turned her attention back to the nurse, "When will he be out of surgery?"

Kaskadarian smiled, "They were finishing up as I was leaving. He'll go to Recovery next and after that, they'll move him to a room. His surgeon, Dr. Gorosky, should be here soon to give you details. In the meantime," she held up a small bundle, "I've got some scrubs you can change into." She directed a meaningful look at Don and Charlie, "I trust you gentlemen will excuse us for a few minutes?"

Charlie backed off almost immediately but Don lingered, giving Mac a silent look. She returned a small nod, "It's okay, thank you."

Don inclined his head slightly, "All right, we'll be just outside. Call when you're ready." He walked out of the room, followed by Charlie. Taking up a position near the door, he leaned against the wall and looked at his brother, "What did I miss?"

Charlie shrugged, "Not much, Mac has no idea if they were the actual targets or not." He paused for a moment, "She did say they were using a machine pistol on full automatic." He looked at his brother, "It was kind of weird, she sounded angry instead of scared." Charlie didn't bother mentioning that he was pretty sure if it had been him, his reaction would have been unadulterated terror. Despite the education he was receiving from the cases he helped on, that sort of violence was worlds beyond his experience.

Don grunted thoughtfully, "She's professional military and despite what you might hear on TV, they're not big on collateral damage. Those machine pistols are nearly impossible to control on full auto which means these people didn't care how many people they hit while they went after their intended victim."

"The terrorist's weapon of choice. So you don't think this was just a random act of violence." Even as he said it, Charlie knew that wasn't the case. The few facts he had made it plain, this attack was deliberate.

Don just gave Charlie a look, aware that his brother knew he was grasping at straws. He leaned his head against the wall, "We'll have to wait and see what David finds out. There were other people there. It's possible one of them was the target and Mac and Harm were just in the wrong place at the wrong time." He straightened up at the sight of a man walking towards them in green surgical scrubs.

"Dr. Gorosky?" The surgeon nodded, giving them a curious look. Don held up a hand, "Just a sec, Doc." He tapped on the door and then opened it a crack, "Mac? Dr. Gorosky's here. You ready?" The vehement 'God, Yes!' made him smile a little. He turned back to the doctor, "Sorry, she was getting into some clean clothes. Go right in." Dr. Gorosky managed to look more amused than annoyed, making Don decide that this was one medical doctor he might like. A number of the doctors he'd met during his mother's illness had ticked him off with their smugly superior and coldly impersonal attitudes. He and Charlie followed the surgeon into the room.

Gorosky glanced over his shoulder and frowned at the two men, "Are you family?"

"It's all right, Doctor," Mac interrupted, "They can stay. How's Harm?"

The surgeon returned his attention to the attractive brunette, "He's in Recovery right now. The bullet exited just below the left clavicle, nicking it slightly. There was substantial muscle damage but fortunately, no bones were broken so there's no need for a cast. He'll have to keep his arm immobile while things heal but with therapy, I see no reason why he shouldn't regain full use of his shoulder." Gorosky couldn't help smiling at the happy relief on Ms. MacKenzie's face. This was the kind of news he enjoyed delivering. He held up a hand to forestall the inevitable question, "We'll keep Mr. Rabb in Recovery for about an hour and then move him to a room. You'll be able to see him then. Just realize that he's on pain meds and sedated, so he probably won't wake up until morning. You should consider getting some rest yourself." He waved off her thank you and walked out of the room.

Kaskadarian smiled at Mac, "He's on the third floor. There's a waiting room up there by the nurses' station. They'll be able to tell you when you can see him. And after you've seen him, you should really take the doctor's advice and go home and rest." Her tone turned dry, "That way you won't scare him by looking like death warmed over when he wakes up in the morning."

"Gee, thanks," Mac muttered as the nurse walked out of the exam room. She took a limping step forward and found herself bracketed by the Eppes brothers.

Charlie took tentative hold of her arm, firming his grip when she didn't object. Don had a hand under her other elbow, taking care not to jostle the sprained wrist. He'd also thought to grab the bag containing her belongings and had it tucked under an arm. He looked over at her, "It sounds like you've got some time before you can see Harm. Do you need to contact your boss and let him know what happened?"

Mac closed her eyes and grimaced, "Oh god, I need to call Harm's parents and Mattie, too."

Charlie and Don exchanged glances. "Mattie?" Don asked.

Mac shook her head slightly. Suddenly she was feeling very tired, "Mattie is Harm's 15-year-old ward. This is going to scare her silly."

"Maybe you should wait until morning so Harm can talk to her, too." Charlie offered, "That might reassure her."

Mac gave him a dry look, "Or make her go ballistic because I didn't tell her sooner. You have no idea how volatile a teenage girl can be."

Don swallowed a snort of amusement and Charlie shot him a jaundiced look, "And I suppose you're some sort of expert?"

"Hey, no man, not me", Don grinned, "But I thought you might be. I understand your classes at the beginning of each semester tend to have quite a number of young ladies."

Charlie's mouth opened and closed silently for a second before he began to sputter, "That's... I... You... "

"Boys," Mac rolled her eyes, doing a creditable imitation of a long-suffering parent. "I need to find a phone." Her cellphone was currently MIA, having come loose from her purse when she hit the ground. Hopefully, the Crime Scene Unit had it and she could get it back. She'd check with Don later when things had calmed down and see if he could find out.

"There was a bank of them over by the ER admitting desk," Don nodded his head in that direction. It was a habit by now to scan any location he was in for pertinent information. He remembered seeing the logo on the wall of the hallway to the right of the admitting desk. They walked down that way and Don eased his grip on her as it became apparent she was moving more easily. When they reached the phones, he was happy to note they were lower to the floor and had chairs. That would make it easier on Mac who truly did look worn out. Don could sympathize. He'd had a team member shot early in his career and even though it hadn't been serious, the stress he'd felt over it had been exhausting.

Once she was settled in a chair, the brothers pulled back to give her some privacy. Charlie was still frowning slightly and Don eyed him carefully, "You okay?"

"Hmm, what? Oh, sure," Charlie glanced over at Mac, "Do you think I could get a look at the police forensic report? Maybe I'll be able to tell who the target was."

Don shrugged, "I'm sure I can get it but it's probably a waste of your time. That's part of what the Crime Scene Unit does. Once they've tracked the trajectories, they should be able to make a fairly accurate guess at who was being shot at."

Charlie looked dubious, "Mac said that the weapon was on full automatic and the car was moving. The shell casings won't be anywhere near where they were ejected and the slugs would have had to pass through at least two surfaces to give them a trajectory from the impact point."

"Are you saying you can do some math thing and figure out the trajectories?" Don frowned thoughtfully at his brother.

"No, I don't think anyone's going to be able to do that. There are too many variables. I was thinking more along the lines of where all the shots landed. Assuming that they really did have one target they were focusing on, I can sift out the random hits and come up with a location." Charlie broke off when Don held up a hand, his attention moving towards the phone bank. The younger Eppes turned to see Mac making her way slowly towards them.

Don greeted her with a slight lift of his chin, "Did you get hold of everybody?"

Mac shook her head, "I decided to wait on Mattie. It's 0208 on the East coast. If I wake her up and tell her now, the poor kid will never get back to sleep." She paused and rubbed her forehead gingerly, between the headache and the bruising, it was hard to decide which felt worse. "General Cresswell is letting me stay with the investigation but he wants to talk to you in the morning. Harm's parents will be here in the morning, too. They live just outside of San Diego." She looked from Don to Charlie, "I'm going to go wait for them to let me see Harm. I wanted to thank you both for coming down here. You should head home, it's late."

"You're not thinking of staying here, are you?" Charlie spoke up, his concern evident.

"I can call a cab to take me back to the hotel," Mac shrugged a shoulder. She hadn't really thought about what she'd do after seeing Harm. Nurse Kaskadarian had made it fairly plain that they wouldn't let her camp out in Harm's room. Maybe she'd just settle in one of the waiting rooms.

Charlie shot a quick look at Don and then looked back at the Marine Colonel, "Why don't you come home with us? It's not that much farther and the house has plenty of room."

"Charlie," Don hesitated at the questioning look he got from his brother. Dammit, what was he supposed to say? He didn't want the JAG officer anywhere near his family. What if she and Harm had been the targets?

Mac was carefully shaking her head, "Thanks but I wouldn't want to impose. Besides, all my clothes and things are at the hotel."

Don's quiet sigh of relief was cut short by Charlie's next words, "That's not a problem, we could swing by your hotel first." He looked over at his brother, still slightly puzzled by his earlier reaction. "Couldn't we?"

"Charlie, if it's going to make Mac uncomfortable..."

"More uncomfortable than going back to a cold, empty hotel room?" Charlie's eyebrows rose and he turned to the Marine Colonel, "Mac, please. It's not an imposition. It would make me feel better knowing you weren't alone. You've been through a lot tonight."

Mac hesitated. In truth, she hadn't looked forward to returning to the hotel. "Are you sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure," Charlie smiled, relieved she wasn't going to be stubborn about it. He couldn't help but admire the way she was handling everything. Mac still seemed somewhat undecided, so Charlie plowed determinedly forward, "Tell you what, let's go up to the waiting room so you can find out when you can see Harm. Once you're settled, Don and I can run to your hotel, get your things and come back here. That way, when you're ready, we can head straight home. Sound like a plan?"

"Okay, thank you." Mac gave up and smiled at the young man. It was becoming apparent that it wasn't just his dark, good looks that attracted the female students. She accepted the arm he gallantly offered and they began their trek to the third floor waiting room. Don excused himself, saying he would catch up later. He needed to touch base with David and find out what was going on.

Twenty minutes later, Mac found herself in Harm's darkened room. The nurse had told her she could have ten minutes but then she'd have to leave. Charlie and Don had left twelve minutes ago. The hospital wasn't that far from the hotel, she figured it would take them about 30 minutes all told. Maybe she could wheedle an extra ten minutes out of the nurse. Once they kicked her out, she didn't know if she could stand being so close to Harm without actually being able to see or touch him. Carefully, she slid a chair over to his bedside, trying to be as quiet as possible. Her left hand was pretty much useless because of her wrist.

She brushed her fingers lightly over his forehead. If it weren't for the bandages encompassing his upper torso, he could have just been deeply asleep. Thank God the wound hadn't been more serious. Sliding her hand down, she clasped his and settled in the chair. "You scared the hell out of me, you know that? You were lucky, the doctor said." She paused for a few seconds, staring at their hands, "Honest to God, Harm, don't you ever do this to me again. When I saw all that blood," Mac stopped for a moment to compose herself, "You're going to be fine. They said you'll make a full recovery. I called your Mom and Frank. They'll be here in morning. I haven't told Mattie yet. It's 0242 on the East Coast and I couldn't bring myself to scare her like that with a phone call. I'll call Jen in the morning and let her know and then, when you're awake, we can both tell Mattie." She smiled a little, "Don't think I'm going to protect you when she starts in. Maybe next time, you'll be better at ducking, and before you say anything about 'taking cover', forget it, that's strictly a Marine thing."

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	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Thursday,

UCLA campus

Los Angeles, CA

2305 Local

Rashid waited impatiently for Husam to answer the phone. He had finally remembered the dark-haired man, he just wasn't sure if it was a bad thing or not. He would let Husam decide. He heard the phone pick up. "Husam? I know who he is. His name is Charles Eppes and he teaches applied mathematics at CalSci... I did a search on the internet... His biography says he's a genius and that he consults for the government. What if he figures it out? ... I don't know... no... but what about..." Rashid looked at the phone, Husam had hung up on him. Shrugging, he returned to his studies, he'd done his part and Husam would take care of any problems. He always did.

Thursday,

595 Puller Lane,

NBVC

Ventura, CA

2330 Local

McKlellan threw the remote down and glared at the TV screen. The drive-by shooting in downtown LA had made the news but other than the number of fatalities and injuries, no information was being released. Had the JAG officers been taken out? Dammit, there was no way to ask without tipping his hand. McKlellan raked fingers through his hair and got up to pace. After several laps of his living room, he was feeling somewhat calmer. Did it really matter if those knuckleheads managed to accomplish what they were supposed to do? If they had, great. If not, he would simply have to try again. No one would be able to connect him to this shooting. If those gangbangers got caught and talked, they had no proof and he could deny everything. The phones were untraceable and he had a convenient and airtight alibi in the form of sentries at all the base gates.

Even if Rabb and MacKenzie hadn't been among the casualties, they had to have been part of the group being shot at. He couldn't imagine how having something like that happen wouldn't throw them off their game. That should stall the investigation for a while and buy him a bit more time to formulate something else. McKlellan reached down and grabbed the phone off the endtable. Dropping back onto the sofa, he punched in his lawyer's number. It was about time that weasel started earning some of the enormous fee he was charging the old man. Five minutes and a modicum of swearing later, McKlellan hung up, satisfied. His lawyer, more reluctant than not, would give the base JAG offices a call in the morning and demand a meeting with the investigating officers and his client. McKlellan snorted quietly. That should get something moving, one way or the other - and if the JAG officers didn't show, he would have a legitimate reason to question their whereabouts.

If they did show - he would be back at square one. As tempting as it was to simply have someone try shooting the JAG officers again, it would be better to approach it from a different angle. He'd learned that much from watching his father's business maneuvering. Leaning forward, McKlellan rested his elbows on his knees while he thought. There had to be some way of removing them from the picture without being able to trace it back to him. The problem was who to trust. He had to be careful that whatever and whoever he decided on, it wouldn't somehow come back to bite him in the ass. Frustrated, McKlellan shoved himself to his feet and once more began to pace. There had to be a way out of this quandary.

Thursday,

En route to the Executive Towers Hotel

Los Angeles, CA

2335 Local

Charlie looked over at his brother, "Are you going to tell me what the problem is?" They were on their way to the hotel and Don had hardly spoken at all.

"What?" Don really didn't think playing dumb would work but he was pretty sure Charlie wasn't going to be happy with what he had to say and he was willing to stall.

Charlie took a deep breath. It was late, he was tired and his big brother was sorely trying his patience. What was going on? Don had been edgy ever since - Charlie's eyes widened as he stared at his brother, "Why don't you want Mac to stay at the house? She's been through this traumatic event, her fiance has been shot and we're 2 of the 5 people she knows in LA! For god sakes, what's wrong with you?"

Don shot a glare at his brother. "That's what's wrong with me!" he snapped. "Would you think for a minute? What if these two were the targets of that drive-by? Someone could be after them and you just invited the one that's still standing into your home! What makes you think they won't try again?"

Charlie glared back, "That doesn't make sense. They weren't together today, only one of them could have been a target. If we go with your premise, then odds are Mac is in more danger by being with us. You or I are more likely to be next. You want to put Dad up in a hotel just to be on the safe side? Better yet, you want to explain to him why he should be going to a hotel?"

Don didn't have an answer to that although he couldn't help scowling. It wasn't like he'd never been wrong while Charlie had been right but he was feeling annoyed with himself. He'd let his knowledge of the JAG officers' past history influence his judgment. More importantly, he'd kept most of that knowledge from Charlie, denying him pertinent information. As far as his brother knew, the only trigger for this attack had to be the case. Maybe if Charlie had had all the facts, he wouldn't have made such an offer. Don couldn't help snorting to himself. What was he thinking? Charlie could be annoyingly obtuse about some things. He liked MacKenzie, felt sorry for her and that would have been that. Had there been a terrorist right behind her with a machine gun, he would still invite her in and then been surprised when bullets started flying.

He took a deep breath and tried again, "Look, Charlie, all I'm saying is that it could be dangerous. It's bad enough that you've been in some of the situations that you have because of me, I don't want to have to worry about Dad, too."

Charlie's irritation diminished as he gazed at his brother. He should have known Don's foremost concern would be his family's safety. "Don, even if Mac is still a target, there's no reason to believe they could find her at the house. We could take a roundabout route home and you could see if we're being followed. And if you're still worried, what about asking the police to keep an eye on the place?"

Don didn't reply right away, focusing his attention on driving. Finally, he spoke, "There's no way I'm going to convince you not to do this, is there?"

"No," Charlie shook his head. The conversation ceased as Don pulled into the parking garage for the hotel. They rode the elevator silently, each brother lost in his own thoughts. Reaching the correct floor, Don lead the way after pausing to read the plaque that indicated the room numbers. As they approached Mac's room, Don slowed down and gestured for Charlie to do the same. Pulling out the keycard, he drew his pistol as well. Keeping against the wall, he checked to make sure Charlie was behind him and then reached over and unlocked the door. Pushing it open, he waited a second before cautiously peering around the corner. Signaling for his brother to wait, he slid quietly into the room.

Charlie stayed where he was, trying not to fidget. It had never occurred to him to that picking up Mac's things could be dangerous. He stared down at his feet while listening for any sound within the room. When was he going to learn to consider these things? Left to his own devices, he would have blundered right in. His head snapped up when Don suddenly appeared in the doorway, holstering his weapon, "All clear, doesn't look like anyone's been here either. Come on, let's get the Colonel's stuff."

It only took about ten minutes to gather her things together. Don got her clothes and personal items while Charlie packed up her laptop and case notes. Don had insisted. He knew his brother's method of packing was 'cram and stuff' and he didn't think Mac would appreciate having her uniforms wrinkled. He had learned to pack with military precision at Quantico. He zipped up the bag and looked over at Charlie, "Ready?"

Charlie snapped the briefcase shut and took one more look around the desk, "Uh-huh, I don't think I missed anything."

"Good, let's get out of here," Don ushered his brother out and then shut the door, making sure it locked.

Once they were back in the car, Charlie glanced over at Don, "What did David have to say?"

"Not much, he's got the names of the victims and other people who were in the area of the shooting. We'll start checking them out in the morning." He glanced over at his brother, "Maybe you ought to call Dad and warn him he's about to have a house guest."

"Oh man, you're right." Charlie dove into his pocket for his cell phone. Hitting the speed dial, he waited to hear his father's voice, "Hey Dad, Dad, slow down... everything's fine, well, almost fine. Commander Rabb was hit... no, he was lucky, he'll be okay... no, Colonel MacKenzie wasn't shot but she did get banged up a little, diving for cover... sprained wrist is the worst... yeah, I know... Dad... Dad! Listen, the hospital won't let Mac stay in the room with Harm and I didn't want her to spend the night in a waiting room so I invited her to stay with us. Is that okay with you?... I know it's my house, but it's your house too... Really? Great, we're on our way back to the hospital to pick her up. Don and I ran by her hotel to get some of her things. We'll see you in about half an hour or so, okay?... All right, see you then. Thanks, Dad." Charlie ended the connection and looked over at Don, "Dad's okay with it."

"So I heard," Don replied dryly. He pulled into the hospital parking lot and stifled a yawn, "Let's get the Colonel and get out of here, I'm beat."

Friday,

Eppes Residence

Pasadena, California

0025 Local

"Here we are," Don pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine.

Mac peered out at the warmly lit, older home, "This is beautiful."

Charlie slid out of the backseat and opened her door, offering her a hand, "It's a Craftsman." He glanced at his home, "This one was built around 1922. Come on, let's get inside. Dad's probably hovering at the door." Don had gone around to the back of the SUV to retrieve Mac's bag and briefcase but Charlie didn't have to see his brother to know he was anxious to get everyone out of sight.

They had just gained the porch when the front door opened. Charlie shot a quick grin at Mac before turning back to his father, "Hi Dad."

Alan stepped to the side while motioning for Charlie to come in, "Don't just stand there, Charlie, get the lady inside." He smiled at Mac as they entered and held the door until Don was inside too. Closing it, he threw the locks and then turned around.

Charlie took over the introductions, "Dad, I'd like you to meet Lt. Col. Sarah MacKenzie. Mac, this is my father, Alan Eppes."

Mac held out her hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. I appreciate you taking me in on such short notice."

Alan took her hand with a smile and waved the other one, "The pleasure's all mine, Colonel MacKenzie, I just wish the circumstances were better."

"Me, too, Mr. Eppes," Mac gave a weary nod.

"Call me Alan and if you don't mind my saying so, you look exhausted." He looked at his sons, "It's late, I think we should all turn in. Donnie, take her things up to the guest room. Charlie, why don't you escort the Colonel and show her where everything is?" He looked at Mac again, "Can I get you anything? Some tea, before you turn in?"

She shook her head, "No thank you." Her energy levels were dwindling rapidly. Mac could only hope that her sleep would be dreamless.

"Come on, the guest room is upstairs," Charlie waved in the direction of the staircase and Alan watched as they headed up the stairs. They met Don on his way down and stopped for a moment, then continued on their way.

Alan waited as his eldest son made his way over, "You should stay here too."

Don couldn't help glancing over his shoulder to where his brother had gone with the Colonel, "Believe me, I was planning on it."

Following his son's gaze, Alan frowned, "What's going on?"

"It's nothing." At his father's raised eyebrow, Don shook his head, "Really, Dad, I'm probably just being paranoid. We can't tell who was the intended target of that drive-by. There were almost a dozen people in the vicinity at the time."

"But you think someone might have been after the JAG officers and you're worried they might try something here." Alan put his hands on his hips as Don regarded him with surprise, "I'm not an idiot, and neither are you. Will they be able to find this house?"

"I don't think so," Don shook his head, "No one followed us and I didn't take a direct route here. Like I said, I'm being paranoid."

"This was Charlie's idea, wasn't it?"

Don snorted lightly while glancing around the room, "Does that surprise you?"

"No, as I've said before, your brother's got a big heart." Alan put a hand on his eldest son's shoulder, turning him towards the stairs, "Come on, Donnie, it's late and we could all do with some sleep."

"In a minute; just let me take a quick run-through and make sure everything's secure." Fifteen minutes later, he was in his old room, getting undressed. Leaving on his t-shirt, he slid into a pair of sweatpants and climbed into bed, making sure his pistol was within easy reach on the nightstand. Five minutes later, he was asleep.

Friday,

Eppes Residence

Pasadena, California

0435 Local

Don raised his head and looked blearily around. Something had roused him, what was it? Fighting the urge to drift off again, he listened quietly. There, there it was again. Wide awake now, he swung out of bed scooping up his sidearm and pulling it from the holster. Someone was on the stairs. The third, fifth and tenth steps had a tendency to creak if you weren't careful. In his younger days, he'd used that knowledge to his advantage to sneak out of the house. Charlie, for all his brilliance, could never quite get the hang of distributing his weight and always managed to alert their parents. At least, that was the case when he was younger, Don had no idea if his brother had ever been able to master that skill as he grew older.

Silently, Don eased open his door and peered up and down the hallway. It was clear. Cautiously, he crept along the passage until he'd reached Charlie's room. Peering in, he reassured himself that his brother was sleeping soundly amid the tangle of bedcovers. Moving to the guest room, he hesitated briefly before slowly opening the door. He didn't want to disturb Mac's privacy but he had to check. It was empty. Quickly, he turned and looked towards the bathroom. The door was still open and the room was dark. Turning around, he hurried back down the hallway to the stairs. Stopping for a moment, he could see a faint glow that told him a light was on in the kitchen. The relief was great but he forced himself not to relax, not until he had verified that the Colonel had gotten up on her own.

Quietly, he made his way down the steps, inwardly smiling as he negotiated the creaking stairs with the same skill he'd had in his youth. Reaching the kitchen doorway, he stopped and looked in. Mac was standing at the back door, looking out into the yard. Although he hadn't said anything or moved, something alerted her and she spun quickly around, spilling water out of the glass she was holding. Don held up a hand, "Take it easy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

Mac tried to calm her breathing and then looked with chagrin at the water on the floor. Don moved forward, "Hey, I'll get that. Why don't you sit down?" Putting his pistol on the table, he grabbed some paper towels and quickly mopped up the water. He looked up to see her watching him from a kitchen chair. Don gestured towards her glass, "Would you like some more?"

Mac shook her head, "No thanks. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake anyone."

Don shrugged, "No big deal. You couldn't sleep?" Considering the events of the day, it wasn't so surprising.

She shook her head again, "I have problems sleeping any length of time." She didn't mention that sleeping with Harm tended to cure that.

"It was a helluva day," Don moved to another chair and sat down as well. He scrubbed at his face and then looked at her, "Want to talk about it?"

Mac propped an elbow on the table and rested her forehead, "I wouldn't know where to start." She lifted her head and glanced around the kitchen before looking back at Don, "It's not like I haven't been here before. Harm's a Navy pilot, and for a part-timer, he's managed to find his fair share of dangerous missions." Don leaned back in his chair and fiddled with the placemat. Mac eyed him for a moment, "I'm assuming you've accessed our files so you know what I'm talking about."

Don gave her an apologetic look but Mac cut him off before he could speak, "Don't, I'd have done the same thing if I'd found my investigation was being saddled with a couple of interlopers."

"I don't think of you as interlopers," Don protested. When Mac raised an eyebrow at him, he shook his head slightly, "Okay, maybe at first - before we met. But I knew this was a military matter and we were going to have to deal with the Navy at one point or another. I happen to think we were damn lucky to get you two." He paused for a moment and then grinned slightly, "Even if you are accident-prone."

Mac nearly spit out the swallow of water she'd just taken. Don obligingly passed over a napkin and settled back with an innocent expression. Mac dabbed at her chin and then chuckled, "I have to say, Mr. Eppes, I've never quite heard it put that way before." She grew serious again as she glanced down at the wadded up napkin and began rolling it around in her hands, "Have you heard anything about who might have been the target?"

Don shook his head, "We haven't run down all the names yet. David will look into it in the morning. Did you see the shooters at all?"

"No, all I saw was pavement - and a few stars," she added ruefully. Mac frowned, "I can't believe this is related to the case. We've only been here," she paused for a moment, "a little under 33 hours and it's not like we've made any huge breakthroughs in the investigation. Why would someone want to draw that much attention to themselves?"

"Could this have to do with some other case?"

Mac frowned slightly while picking absently at the napkin, "I've considered that but, no, I don't think so. If someone had a vendetta, I don't see why they'd follow us out here when they'd have any number of opportunities in DC."

"Ever stepped on anyone's toes in California?"

She arched an eyebrow at him and said dryly, "I'm fairly certain we've stepped on toes all over the world."

Don grinned and held up a hand, "Okay, fair enough." He dropped his hand back down to the table and idly sketched a pattern, "Charlie wants to look at the forensic report. He thinks he might be able to determine who these people were trying for."

Mac's eyebrows rose in surprise, "How?"

"I have no idea. Some math thing," he added when he saw the look on her face. Don waved a hand, "He explained it to me but once he gets wrapped up in his math theory stuff, what I hear starts sounding like 'blah, blah, blah, Don, blah, blah, blah.'"

Mac grinned, "I know what you mean. When Harm starts going on about flying, that's what I hear, too."

Don's eyes took on a wicked twinkle, "He calls you Don?"

She lobbed the napkin ball at him and laughed quietly, "Oh shut up, you know what I meant."

Don caught the napkin easily and then smothered a yawn, "I think I'm ready to go back to bed for a couple of hours." He squinted at the kitchen clock, "It's only... "

"0510," Mac furnished absently before finishing off the rest of her water. She got up and put the glass in the sink and then turned around to find Don staring at her. "Before you ask, I can't tell you how exactly, but I always know what time it is."

Don grunted thoughtfully, "Well, that's a handy talent. Wish you'd teach it to Charlie. He's always losing track." He stood up and stretched a little before picking up his pistol, "Are you coming?"

She leaned back against the counter, looked at the pistol and raised an eyebrow, "Will you shoot me if I don't?"

Don put a hand to his chest, "Colonel MacKenzie, that truly hurts. The Eppes family is not in the habit of shooting their house guests." He turned around and started out of the kitchen, casually tossing over his shoulder, "but you might want to keep an eye on the kitchen knives."

Mac smiled, "Go away, Agent Eppes." She shook her head in amusement when she heard 'That's Special Agent Eppes, thank you very much.' come floating quietly in from the next room. Carefully folding her arms, she continued to lean against the counter. Don had been a welcome distraction. Both he and his brother were good people and if her early assessment of Alan Eppes was anywhere close, the apples hadn't fallen far from the tree. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she closed her eyes and let the worry over Harm wash over her again. As much as she appreciated Charlie opening his home, part of her still wished she was in the cramped and uncomfortable waiting room. At least there, she was only moments away from Harm.

Opening her eyes, she walked over to the back door again and stared out into the darkness. Trish and Frank would be here by 0800 or so, allowing for the usual traffic on the highways. They had opted to drive, reasoning that it would actually take less time all told. Trish had put it succinctly, 'I am not spending three hours in airports for a 1 hour flight.' Maybe she could get one of the Eppes men to run her to the hospital in time to meet with them. If it was too inconvenient, she would call a cab. Maybe she would do that anyway. She'd done enough imposing just by being here. Don would no doubt be happier to have her away from his family's home. That he was worried about having her here had become apparent when he showed up in the kitchen with pistol in hand. Mac shook her head, Harm's shooting had really rattled her but she should have realized the possible danger her presence could cause. Yes, as soon as it could be considered polite, she would make her excuses and leave. With a small sigh, she leaned her unbruised shoulder against the doorframe and let her mind drift.

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	9. Chapter 9

To those of you in the US, Happy Labor Day! I know this is a day late but yesterday was spent celebrating my Dad's 80th birthday. He's still going strong, playing golf at least once a week, keeping track of various business pursuits and playing with grandkids. He's a good guy with boatloads of integrity. Dad was a FBI agent for 35 years and can still intimidate the bejeebers out of people when he wants to. (I won't go into his opinion of Numb3rs - suffice to say it's Hollywood - but at least the Bureau isn't being portrayed as the snooty, clueless bad guys like they are in the police dramas.) Anyway, as always, I hope you all enjoy the story and a special thanks to the kind folks who took the time to review.

Chapter 9

Friday,

Eppes Residence

Pasadena, CA

0620 Local

Darkness had faded to gray and the first hints of color could be seen when Mac heard footsteps. Don had already proved he could move silently and Charlie had a light tread, so she assumed it was Alan she was hearing. She turned and soon had her assumption proved right as the elder Eppes appeared in the doorway. His eyebrows rose to find her already up. He smiled and walked in, heading for the refrigerator, "Finally, another early riser. Good morning, Colonel."

Mac smiled in return, "Good morning, Alan, and please, call me Mac."

Alan's head rose above the refrigerator door, "Mac it is. In the mood for some breakfast?"

"Please don't bother, I can get something later," Mac shook her head.

He frowned, "Did I ask about bother? I'm making breakfast. How about hash browns and eggs? How are you feeling this morning?"

Mac blinked a little, "Umm, well, that sounds fine and I'm feeling better. May I help?"

Alan was busily assembling ingredients and cooking utensils. He pointed a spoon towards a kitchen chair, "You may have a seat and satisfy my curiosity while I cook. How long have you been in the Marines?"

Charlie reached out and slapped at his alarm. Stretching, he yawned and considered turning over to grab a few more minutes of sleep. He had a 9:00 class this morning for his non-math majors. It wasn't a difficult course to teach except for finding ways to explain math theorems that his students could easily grasp and retain. Most of them had come into the class with the air of someone being forced to walk the plank. They had the erroneous notion that they couldn't 'do' math. He had countered that idea on the very first day, pointing out how all of them were smart enough to use math in their everyday lives. Charlie was determined to have them walk out of that class with a better understanding and a new confidence in their mathematical abilities. As much as he liked teaching his math majors, this was a challenge he was enjoying as well.

Reluctantly, he threw back the covers and sat up, running a hand through his unruly curls. With one last yawn, he rose and grabbed his robe from the chair by the door. Slipping it on, he padded out into the hallway and headed for the kitchen in search of coffee. He reached the doorway and stopped for a second. His father and the Colonel were chatting amicably over breakfast. They noticed him at almost the same time. Alan smiled and gestured towards the stove, "Morning, Charlie. There's eggs and hash browns in the oven keeping warm."

Acknowledging his father with a nod, Charlie headed straight for the coffee. Pouring himself a cup, he took a long swallow before turning around and leaning against the counter, "Morning."

Alan leaned back in his chair and quirked an eyebrow at his youngest son, "Are you awake yet? You're up early."

Charlie rubbed his face, "I've got a 9:00 class and then I need to go over some equations for Larry."

Alan nodded, "Is this the anti-math group?"

"Dad," Charlie rolled his eyes, "They're not anti-math, they're just not majoring in math." He fixed himself a plate and took a seat at the table. Alan obligingly passed the salt and pepper. After a couple of bites, Charlie looked over at Mac, "Did you sleep okay?"

She smiled, "Fine, thank you."

"Mac was telling me about some of the places she's been," Alan sipped his coffee. "It's been fascinating. I had no idea JAG lawyers would travel so much. I guess they aren't kidding when they say 'Join the military, see the world.'"

"I'm afraid 9-11 has made that more true than ever." Mac smiled slightly, "But rIght now, I think I'd settle for seeing Harm. Is there a phonebook somewhere I can use? I'd like to call a cab."

"Cab? Don't be silly. If Donnie can't take you, then I will," Alan sounded indignant.

"Really, Alan, that's not necessary. I've already imposed enough. A cab will be fine." Finishing up her coffee, she gathered her dishes together and headed for the sink.

"Mac, leave that. I'll get it later," Alan ordered. When she started to protest, he shook his head and pointed to her bandaged wrist, "Beyond the fact that you're a guest in this house, I don't see how you were planning on washing dishes one-handed. And for your information, young lady, you are not imposing, I'm offering."

Carefully depositing the dishes in the sink, Mac shook her head as she turned around, "I appreciate the offer but a cab would easier for everyone. Harm's parents are going to be at the hospital by 8:00 and I'd like to be there when they arrive. It's 6:47 right now. Allowing 20 minutes for the cab to arrive gives me time to shower and dress." She looked over at Charlie, "I know Don did a lot of doubling back last night and it still only took 28 minutes to get here, so I'm assuming it's normally about a 20 minute trip. That gives me approximately 30 minutes to check with Harm's doctors, call my CO and see Harm before Frank and Trish arrive. What?" Both the Eppes men were staring at her.

"Well, if I didn't know you were a Marine before, I do now. That sounded like mission planning." Alan couldn't help smiling.

Charlie was looking somewhat perplexed. During her entire recital about the schedule she wanted to keep, she had never once glanced at a clock. Now that he thought about it, she hadn't had a watch on last night. Of course, there was the clock on the console but he distinctly remembered her spending most of her time on the drive here, staring out the window. For that matter, her interview with the cop had been very precise about the time. "Umm, Mac? How did you know the time just then or how long it took to get here from the hospital?"

"The Colonel has a clock in her head," Don stood in the doorway with the morning newspaper tucked under his arm. He was already dressed although his hair was still damp. Walking into the kitchen, he dropped the paper on the table and then poured himself a cup of coffee, shaking his head at his father's offer of breakfast, "This will be fine, Dad." He looked over at Mac, "I can drop you at the hospital on my way to the office. I need to meet up with David."

"Wait a minute," Charlie looked from Mac to his brother, "What do you mean, a clock?"

"I always know what time it is," Mac answered. She looked over at Don, "Give me 20 minutes to get ready."

He nodded, "I put some clean towels in the bathroom for you. Take your time." Don watched as she left the kitchen and turned back to see his brother and father watching him, "What?" He sounded a lot like Mac had a few minutes ago.

"It's not possible for someone to know the time like that," Charlie protested. His gaze was starting to travel around the kitchen in search of something to write with.

"Don't tell me, tell Mac," Don grinned as he took another sip of his coffee. It wasn't often that he came across something that could confound his brother.

"Charlie, don't be rude to the Colonel," Alan warned his youngest, knowing how Charlie could be while pursuing information. It wouldn't be deliberate but that wouldn't make it any less uncomfortable for Mac.

Charlie gave Alan a confused look and Don decided to jump in, "Don't accuse her of lying about it."

"I wouldn't do something like that," Charlie said in disbelief.

"You just did. 'It's not possible for someone to know the time like that.' Remember?" Don gave his brother a pointed stare. "Look, just ask her about it if you have to before you launch into some massive equation to prove that she can't."

"Fine, whatever," Charlie picked up his plate and coffee cup and took them to the sink. Rinsing them and Mac's dishes off, he loaded them into the dishwasher and turned around, "I need to get going, too." He sounded a little affronted.

"You need a lift to CalSci?" Don asked.

Charlie shook his head, "No, I was planning on biking over today. Gives me time to think." He started to leave, then paused and looked over his shoulder, "You'll keep me updated, won't you?"

"Of course," Don assured him. Satisfied, Charlie nodded and left to begin his own preparations for the day. Don settled at the table, passing the crossword to his father while taking the sports section for himself. He was three-quarters through the local sports columnist's daily rant about the Dodgers when Mac appeared in the doorway. Don glanced at his watch, "That was quick."

Mac shrugged, "Nineteen minutes." She held up her bandaged wrist and hand, "I was having trouble getting this rewrapped, Charlie helped." She looked from Alan to Don, "Is he annoyed with me about something? He hardly said two words."

Alan cleared his throat, "I think he's more annoyed with us." He nodded his head in Don's direction, "We told him not to be rude to you. He can be pretty single-minded when he's pursuing research."

At Mac's confused look, Don elaborated, "Your sense of time has thrown his logical side for a loop. I told him not to get caught up in some huge math thing trying to prove you can't when it's pretty obvious you can." He got up and carried his coffee mug to the sink. Rinsing it out, he put it in the dishwasher. Turning back, he addressed his father before heading for the door, "Thanks, Dad. Let's get going, Mac."

Friday,

Math Building

CalSci Campus

0925 Local

"Dr. Eppes?"

"Yes?" Charlie squinted up in the direction of the voice. The angle of the morning sun made it difficult to actually see anyone in that area of the room. So far the class was going well. The students were beginning to loosen up and ask questions and that was all to the good. He was over his fit of pique with his family this morning although he was not quite ready to concede that they might have had a point.

"Is it true you work with the FBI?" There was an excited ripple through the rest of the class. Apparently, this was more interesting than his explanation of RSA encryption algorithms and their use in the real world.

"I consult with quite a few government agencies," Charlie hoped this would put an end to that line of questioning. He was out of luck. One of the girls in the front row raised her hand. With an inward sigh, Charlie nodded towards her, "Ms. Frankel?"

"Why would the FBI need a mathematician? No offense," she added hurriedly.

"Don't they investigate fraud? That's math." One of boys piped up from the center aisle.

"But don't they have accountants and computer programs? Why waste Dr. Eppes' time on something like that? I still don't get it," Sarabeth Frankel turned back around to stare at the professor. She really had no need for any more math credits to get her degree but her roommate had spent all last semester gushing about 'the dreamy professor' and she had decided what the hell. It wouldn't hurt and she would see what all the fuss was about. So far she was enjoying the class. Dr. Eppes was easy on the eyes and fun to listen to. She sometimes felt like he was holding out a lollipop to a group of toddlers while coaxing them carefully into the big, scary world of math but she really couldn't fault his methods. Some of the people in this class needed that lollipop.

"Math isn't just about number-crunching. It's about statistics, probabilities, logic - the world is made up of patterns. Identifying patterns can help locate potential targets or discover points of origin, either of which can aid the FBI in their apprehension of criminals. Math can't replace good investigative skills but it can lessen the time it takes to zero in on a suspect." Charlie raised an eyebrow, "Does that answer everyone's questions?"

"So you don't get to carry a badge and a gun?" It was someone else from the upper tier, sounding a little forlorn.

"Good grief, no," Charlie grinned at his class, "I'd probably wind up shooting myself in the foot." He walked back to the blackboard and tapped at the formula, "Now, getting back to our encryption algorithm..." Fifty-five minutes later, he gave them their homework assignments and dismissed the class. Leaning against his desk, he waited while they filed out and then turned to wipe out the equations that covered the blackboard.

"Dr. Eppes?"

Charlie turned around, surprised that anyone was still in the room, "I'm sorry, I thought everyone had left. Did you have a question about the homework?"

"Actually, I was more curious about your consulting work. Can you tell me about your current cases with the FBI?"

Charlie stared at the young man in front of him. He appeared to be of Indian or Pakistani descent with a thick shock of unruly black hair. "No, I'm sorry. I don't discuss any of my consulting work. Was there anything else?"

"I'm afraid so," the young man shifted the jacket he had draped over one arm and Charlie's eyes widened at the sight of a gun barrel.

"What do you want?" Charlie kept his voice steady through sheer willpower. The moment of shock passed and the adrenaline floodgates kicked wide open. His heart was racing, his entire body felt like it was vibrating. Fight or flight, he had no earthly idea which way it would go.

"You will come with me." The gun slid a little further out, angling towards Charlie.

"I don't understand. Why?" The need to stall was instinctual although his logical side was frantically telling him that annoying someone with a gun was a really bad idea.

"Charlie?"

Oh dear god, Amita! She had mentioned she could give him a hand with Larry's work this morning. As soon as the gunman's eyes moved towards doorway, Charlie reacted, leaping forward and shoving the man as hard as he could. Pivoting, he sprinted towards the door, gesturing wildly at an astounded Amita, "Get out! He's got a gun!" If the shouted phrase about a gun momentarily froze students in the corridor, the sight of Dr. Charles Eppes careening through the doorway at the same time two pistol shots rang out was enough to send everyone scrambling for cover.

Charlie stumbled and slid on the tile floor as he tried to turn the corner without lessening his speed. A hand grabbing his arm steadied him. He looked up to see Amita grimly hanging on. Before he could say anything, she was dragging him up the hallway and into an alcove. He braced himself against the wall as she peered back around the corner. The students had made a remarkable disappearance in record time, the corridor was clear. At the moment, it didn't look like the gunman was interested in hunting them down. Amita looked over at Charlie and whispered fiercely, "What's going on?"

He shook his head, "Don't know." Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he was starting to feel wobbly. Keeping his eyes closed seemed to help with the dizziness and he concentrated on the solid feel of the wall behind him. Faintly, the sound of sirens began to be heard and he sent a heartfelt thanks heavenward for students and their ever-present cellphones.

Amita finally relaxed as the first police and campus security officers made a cautious appearance at each end of the hallway. Her relief was short-lived when she turned back to Charlie. He was deathly pale and slowly sinking towards the floor. Alarmed, she put a hand on his chest, "Charlie?"

He forced an eye open and looked at her, "Don't feel so good." He continued his sliding descent.

Both hands now firmly wrapped in his jacket lapels, Amita followed him down. Once he was sitting, she twitched open Charlie's sport coat and froze for a second at the sight of a dark red stain soaking the right side of his t-shirt. A shadow falling across them both had her head whipping around in fear. Seeing a security officer standing there filled her with relief although she had to take a deep breath to steady her voice, "Get the paramedics over here. Dr. Eppes has been shot."

Friday,

White Memorial Medical Center

Los Angeles, CA

1055 Local

Mac looked over at Harm, "There, that's done. Now I just need to find an internet connection so I can send it." She was nestled comfortably against his good side, finishing up her report of last night's shooting as well as a recap of the case as it stood. She'd started out in the chair by the bed but Harm had wheedled and badgered until she'd surrendered and climbed up on the bed with him. It was a good thing she was wearing her uniform slacks or it might have been more embarrassing when one of the floor nurses walked in on them. Trish and Frank had left about an hour ago to secure a hotel room and pick up lunch for the four of them. They were due back at any time. She'd also received a call from Lt. Cmdr. Barsantos, the JAG over at Ventura. McKlellan's lawyer had called this morning and insisted upon a meeting between his client and JAG. Barsantos had put him off, pointing out the extenuating circumstances, but they would have to deal with this sooner rather than later. Mac had agreed but hadn't offered a timetable yet. She would call again a little later in the day.

Harm peered at the screen and smiled at her, "Did you make me sound suitably heroic?" He'd been reading over her shoulder here and there, supplying the bits and pieces he remembered, but mostly he'd been resting, enjoying the feel of having Mac tucked against him. He'd been scared out of his mind when he'd woken up early this morning. He remembered the beginning of the shooting and nothing afterwards. Had Mac been hit, too? Where was she? The nurse had been reassuring, confirming that no one named MacKenzie had been admitted. That had eased his fear somewhat but hadn't banished it until Mac and Don Eppes had walked into his room at 0730. The FBI agent had been considerate, excusing himself almost immediately so that they could have some privacy. He told Harm he'd be back in the afternoon to hear his version of the events and to update him on the case.

Mac rolled her eyes and gave an exaggerated sigh, "Don't worry, your reputation is intact." She leaned over and gave a him a quick kiss on the cheek, "My knight in shining armor."

Harm snorted softly, "I think I might have earned more hero points if I hadn't managed to hurt you in process. How's your wrist?" It had taken him a few minutes to realize that Mac's wrist was wrapped. It had taken a little closer inspection to see the skillfully hidden bruise on her forehead. He'd been more than a little abashed to find out that his attempt to keep her covered had been the cause. He didn't get to wallow in self-recrimination for very long. Mac had informed him sternly that a sprained wrist and some scrapes and bruises beat gunshot wounds all to hell. His parents had shown up not long afterwards and after enduring a mild scolding for scaring them half to death, they'd put in a call to Mattie. Mac had called Jen at 0600 eastern time and let her know what had happened. With the time difference, they'd agreed that Jen would initially break the news to Mattie and let her stay home to wait for the call from Harm. Mac had already discussed the situation with Cresswell during the call from the hospital last night and he'd agreed to give Jen the day off to handle Mattie. The teenager had been understandably upset and they all had to take turns reassuring her.

"It's just as sore as it was seventeen minutes ago when you asked me about it for the third time." Mac turned so she could look him in the eye, "It will be fine in a week or so. It's not broken." She started to grin, "Now about earning a few more hero points - do you realize that it's been thirty-eight minutes and twelve seconds since I've heard those three magic words?" She batted her eyes and did her best Scarlett O'Hara imitation, "I don't know how I'm going to go on."

Harm chuckled and planted a soft kiss on her temple before pulling her in closer, "Three magic words, huh? Let's see... 'where is lunch?'"

"You dork," Mac pulled back to glare at him, her stern expression ruined by the laughter crinkling around her eyes, "No hero points for you, Tin Man."

"What did he do now?" Harm and Mac turned to see Frank and Trish standing in the doorway with several bags between them. Trish had effortlessly assumed the expression of a weary and exasperated mother.

"Nothing," Harm protested, attempting to look put upon. He reached for Mac to keep her from getting off the bed and was rewarded with a soft slap on the wrist. "Ow, did you see that? I'm a wounded man and she's beating on me."

Mac rolled her eyes as she stuffed her laptop into her briefcase. Turning back, she gave him a wide, insincere smile, "I'm sorry. I forgot how sensitive Squids are." She gulped at the suddenly wicked expression that appeared on Harm's face.

"Alright you two, don't forget there are parents in the room," Trish commanded after sharing an amused look with Frank. She held up the bags she was carrying, "Lunch is here." The Burnetts exchanged puzzled looks at Harm and Mac's quiet laughter.

...14930352, 24157817, 38088169...


	10. Chapter 10

Once again, let me thank everyone for reading (and a special thanks to those who review!), I'm glad y'all are enjoying the story so far. To answer a few comments: No, my Dad doesn't watch many TV shows that feature the FBI, the 'Hollywoodization' makes him crazy. His own career has had its share of excitement (of course, we're talking about a 35 year span). He worked on the Mafia detail, was hired as a hitman and once stopped a bank robbery suspect from escaping by ramming his car (his supervisor was riding with him at the time - the man was a little shaken.) Also, no Pick or Tinker in this story - couldn't find a plausible excuse to send them to California and honestly, it's hard enough juggling characters from two shows. My next story, however...

Chapter 10

Friday,

Pasadena Medical Center

Pasadena, California

1123 Local

Don strode purposefully into the Med Center, intent upon finding his brother. This day was rapidly going to hell. It had started off well enough. He'd gotten Mac to the hospital in good time and taken a few minutes to check on Rabb. The Commander had been awake, much to Mac's obvious relief, so he'd kept it short, promising to come back later in the day to hear what Rabb had to say about the shooting. That had been the high point. When he got to the office, Merrick had called him in to find out how the hell he had managed to get one of his JAG officers shot in the short time they'd been here. There was nothing Don could say. It was useless to point out that the SAC was being unreasonable, that his assignment was to work with the JAG officers, not guard them and that everyone had been off the clock when the shooting occurred. He'd taken the rebuke in silence and then gone to find David to see what he had learned about the shooting.

It wasn't much but it was a start. From the witnesses' descriptions, it had been gangbangers from Diablos Sangre. One of the wounded might have been the possible target - a former gang member of the J Street Trinity. Don wasn't sure about it. For one thing, the Diablos Sangre had been way out of their territory and according to LAPD's gang unit, there hadn't been any bad blood between the Diablos and JST - until now. He'd asked David to keep checking into it and to see if he could round up the forensic report to forward to Charlie's office. After that, Don had spent a rather terse half hour on the phone with an irate Marine General. After making clear his displeasure that his JAG officers weren't going to be returned in the same pristine condition that they had started out in, Cresswell had switched gears and asked Don to keep a careful eye on the Colonel. The General didn't believe in coincidences where Rabb and MacKenzie were concerned. The two had managed to make enough enemies over the years to populate a small country. Don tried suggesting that Cresswell recall both officers and had received a growled 'orders are orders' in reply. He'd promised to do what he could and they'd left it at that.

Don had been on the phone to his forensic accountants about the supply records when his other line had gone off. He almost let it go to voice mail when he saw the CalSci number. He didn't think it was Charlie. His brother inevitably called him on his cell. That left Larry or Amita. Since Amita rarely had any reason to talk to him, he was pretty sure it was Larry. The physicist occasionally called Don when he couldn't locate Charlie. As much as Don liked the brilliantly odd little man, he wasn't really in the mood for Larry's eclectic conversational style. On the other hand, Charlie had that early class this morning at CalSci so there was no reason for Larry not to be able to find his brother. A small knot of worry began to gnaw at him and he'd hurriedly cut short his conversation with the accountants. Answering the other line had confirmed his worst nightmare, Charlie had been shot by an unknown gunman. He barely heard Larry's hasty reassurances that the wound had appeared minor, that Charlie's vital signs had been strong and that he'd been conscious and coherent when he'd left in the ambulance. Once he'd learned which hospital had his brother, he'd simply hung up even though the physics professor had still been speaking. It wasn't until he reached his SUV that he realized David had followed him. He didn't argue when Sinclair insisted on driving. David dropped him at the entrance to the ER and left to park the truck. He strode in, passing through the crowded waiting area, his focus upon the reception desk.

"Don!"

He spun around to see Amita coming towards him. Don hurried forward, "Where is he? What happened?"

"This way," Amita turned down a corridor. She looked over at Don, "He's going to be fine. No vital organs were hit that they can tell but they're going to take him into surgery for a laparoscopy to make sure."

Don felt a little of the tension ease. He frowned, "Do you know what happened?"

Amita took a deep breath, "I'm not really sure. I stopped by his classroom to see if he was ready to go over Larry's equations and he was talking to a student. I thought he was anyway. When Charlie heard me, he shoved the kid down and started running for the door, yelling at me to get out - that the guy had a gun." She paused for a moment to wrap her arms around herself. "He'd just made it to the doorway when I heard the shots. He started sliding when he reached the tile and I grabbed his arm to keep him from falling. Then we ran up the hallway and ducked into an alcove." Her voice developed a slight hitch, "I didn't know he'd been hit."

Don stopped her with a hand on her shoulder, "Amita, I didn't realize - come here." He opened up his arms and, after a slight hesitation, she stepped into his embrace. It only took a few seconds for her shoulders to begin shaking. Don held on, figuring this was probably the first time she'd let herself go since it happened. Although she and Charlie weren't officially dating yet, Don figured it was just a matter of time. It hadn't been an option while Charlie had been her thesis advisor. Now that she had her doctorate and was pursuing a second in another field, they were free to start a relationship - providing the two of them could get off the dime. For a couple of geniuses, they could be remarkably obtuse. After a few minutes, Don felt her start to pull away and loosened his grip, "You gonna be okay?"

Amita nodded as she wiped her face, "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. Charlie's going to fine."

Don smiled at her, "Of course he is, and then you can yell at him for scaring a couple of years off your life - right after I get my turn at him."

She shook her head with a watery chuckle, "Come on, he's down this way."

They walked a little farther down the corridor and then Amita turned into a room. Don was right beside her. He was overwhelmingly relieved to see his brother awake and propped up in the bed, wearing a ridiculously thin hospital gown and sporting an IV in one arm. Charlie smiled at them, "Hey." His voice sounded slightly slurred.

"Hey yourself," Don smiled back, walking up to the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, great," Charlie lifted the hand with the IV, "Good stuff."

"I'll bet," Don grinned and then grew more serious, "What happened, Charlie?"

Charlie shook his head and then blinked a couple of times, "Whoa." He looked at Don, "Dizzy." He swiveled his head over to look at Amita and smiled widely, "You're so beautiful." She blushed furiously and ducked her head. Charlie turned back to his brother and whispered loudly, "Smart, too. About everything. Smarter than me."

"You got that right," Don agreed amicably. "Charlie, I need you to focus for a minute. What happened at CalSci?"

His brother's brow furrowed, "Weird. He wanted to know about my consulting." Charlie closed his eyes briefly, "I'm not supposed to talk about it and I wouldn't." He chuckled mirthlessly, "I couldn't 'cos there wasn't anything." He tilted towards Don who hurriedly put a hand out, "There's no math yet. I haven't done anything on the case and he wanted to shoot me over it. Bet he'll feel dumb when you catch him." He leaned back into the pillows, mumbling, "Stupid. No math."

The sound of hurried footsteps had Don tensing as he turned towards the door, his hand automatically moving to his sidearm. He relaxed at the sight of his father appearing in the doorway. Charlie squinted uncertainly at the approaching figure until Alan made it to the side of the bed and then smiled, "Hey Dad."

"Charlie," Alan relaxed much as Don had, "What's going on? You know you scared the life out of me?"

Charlie blinked owlishly at his father before his expression turned sorrowful, "Sorry. Shoulda run faster."

"It's alright, Charlie," Alan soothed, glancing at Don. "I was just worried. I know it's not your fault."

A nurse and an orderly walked in just then. She looked at Don, Amita and Alan, "It's time to take Mr. Eppes up to surgery. You can go to the surgical waiting room on the second floor if you'd like. We should be able to update you fairly soon. This isn't a long procedure." She smiled at Charlie, "Ready to go, Mr. Eppes?"

He smiled back, "Sure. Call me Charlie."

"Charlie, it is." She gestured to the orderly, "Let's get this show on the road."

Don, Alan and Amita watched as they rolled Charlie out of the room and then left to find the waiting room. Alan, after a quick glance at Amita, draped a comforting arm around her shoulders as they walked. They met David waiting anxiously in the hallway. He looked from Alan to Don, "How is he?"

"He's going to be okay," Don assured Sinclair. "They're checking to confirm that nothing vital was hit. We're heading up to the waiting room on the second floor. The nurse said it wouldn't take long. Why don't you call Megan and Colby, let them know, and have them head over to CalSci?" He looked over at Amita, "I know you've probably already talked to the police, but I'd like to interview you, too."

She nodded with a bit of a shrug, "I don't know if there's much more that I can tell you but, sure."

Don frowned slightly in thought, "You said you thought this guy was a student?" Amita nodded again. He looked over at David, "Make sure Megan stops by CalSci's Admin to get a class list."

David glanced at his watch, "How about I go check with police and see what they have so far? You'll probably be an hour or so, right?"

"Yeah, okay, thanks David." Don watched as the younger man turned and hurried back down the hallway. Something seemed a little off with David and Don shrugged inwardly. It was probably shock that someone would attack Charlie. He was feeling a little off himself.

"Ready, Donnie?"

Alan's voice interrupted his thoughts. He looked over at his father, "Sure, let's go."

Friday,

White Memorial Medical Center

Los Angeles, CA

1140 Local

Harm was still working on his salad as Mac popped the last french fry into her mouth and then wiped her hands on a napkin. He raised an eyebrow at her, "Have we reached our quota of dead animal and grease for today?"

Mac arched an eyebrow right back, "WE haven't reached anything. I, however, am looking forward to a nice juicy steak tonight, topped off with some sinfully rich and delicious dessert, Jello Boy."

"That's not fair," Harm grumbled at the thought of the ubiquitous hospital jello that would making its appearance with his evening meal.

"Not at all," Mac agreed, totally unsympathetic. She'd had more than her share over the years, usually accompanied by Harm's wisecracks. "Suck it up, Navy, and take your gelatin like a man."

Frank and Trish smiled at each other and wisely kept out of it. The banter between their son and his strong-willed Marine was music to their ears. They had fretted and suffered right along with Harm when Mac's stubborn attempt to 'save' him from a childless marriage threatened to destroy the happiness of both. It seemed the relationship was back on track and now Trish was biding her time, waiting for an opportunity to renew a discussion about wedding dates with Mac. There had been a number of disappointed friends when the original wedding day had been cancelled.

The phone rang, stopping the verbal jello-slinging. Mac was closest and picked it up, "Lt. Colonel MacKenzie... oh, hi Allan, what can I... what?!... when?... is he...? ... thank god ... is Don there? ... good ... uh-huh ... where are you? ... don't be silly, I'll see you soon, okay? ... yes ... bye." She hung up and stared at the phone, clearly shocked by what she had heard.

Harm glanced at his parents and then looked at Mac in concern. He cleared his throat softly, "Mac? - Honey? What's wrong?"

She turned wide eyes to him, "That was Alan Eppes." Mac glanced at Frank and Trish, "He's Don and Charlie's father." She looked back at Harm, "Charlie's been shot."

Harm stared at her, his mouth open in surprise, "What?! How could that have happened? Is he okay?" He glanced over at his parents who were looking bewildered. "Don Eppes is the FBI agent we're working with and his younger brother, Charlie, is a math professor at CalSci and a part-time consultant for the Bureau." He turned his attention back to his fiancee, "Mac?"

She seemed to give herself a little shake, "He's alive. It happened at CalSci - one of his students. Alan's on his way to the Pasadena Medical Center. Don's already there."

Harm frowned, "What, someone didn't like their grades? Did they catch the guy?"

Mac gave a half-hearted shrug, "I don't know. Alan didn't go into a lot of detail. He sounded pretty rattled." She looked aimlessly around the room for a moment, "I need to get over there."

Harm shook his head, "You mean WE need to get over there." He moved the salad dish to the night stand so he could get the tray out of his way.

That got the other three's attention quickly. Mac reacted first, "Oh no, just forget that. You're not supposed to be moving around yet."

"Harmon Rabb, don't you dare try getting out of that bed!" Trish glared at him as she instantly swung into full Mom mode.

"That's not a good idea, Harm," Frank threw in his two cents' worth, too.

He glared back at the three, "I'm fine. It doesn't hurt much. I'm just a little stiff. I don't need to be lying around while people are shooting at members of our team."

Mac's eyes widened in disbelief and then narrowed dangerously, "'Fine'? 'A little stiff'? That's what you call the results of the last twenty-four hours?!" She advanced slowly on the bed. Harm stoically held his ground although the whites of his eyes were becoming a little more pronounced. An angry Mac wasn't something to trifle with - hell, an angry Mac could be packaged and used as a substitute for C-4.

She stood by the side of the bed, arms folded tightly despite the ache it caused her wrist. It was better than reaching out and throttling this stubborn man. "You are staying in that bed until the doctor says you can get up. I will find out about Charlie and talk to Don and then report back to you." Her entire demeanor shifted suddenly, "Unless you don't trust me enough to find out what's going on."

"What?" Harm was startled out of his annoyance, "Mac, Sarah, come on, you know I trust you. This isn't about... " He stopped and let his gaze drop to the bed, "Fine, okay. Just don't take too long, will you?" He looked back up and fixed her with a stare, "You know how frustrating it is to be out of the loop." Truthfully, he wasn't sure how far he would have gotten before he wound up with his face planted on the floor. He'd still been determined to try, regardless of the consequences, until Mac had put a halt to his bullheadedness with one statement. He hadn't considered the underlying message he was sending with his insistence of being physically present at the scene.

"Of course I know," Mac reached out to caress the side of his face and then leaned forward for a quick kiss. "I'll let you know what's going on as quickly as I can." She straightened up and turned towards the Burnetts, "Frank, Trish, I'm sorry... "

Frank stood up. He and Trish had been quietly conferring, "Don't be, we understand." He glanced back down at his wife, "Trish is going to stay here with Harm and I'm going to take you to the Pasadena Medical Center." His tone brooked no arguments and Mac nodded gratefully. The government car was still at the hotel and she had been considering calling a cab. This would be much easier and Frank was always a pillar of support.

Friday,

Santa Rosa Apartment Complex

Venice, CA

1145 Local

There was a resounding crack and Jabbar el Naser landed on the floor, clutching the side of his head. He looked up with frightened eyes at the man who had struck him, "Please, I thought it was what you wanted."

"Wanted? Wanted!" The man lashed out with a foot, catching Jabbar in the side. He leaned down, "Do you take me for a fool?"

"N- no, but you said you were worried by this man. I thought if we could find out what he knew..." Naser wheezed.

"You thought? You goat-brained imbecile! You did not think at all!" He pulled back his foot again and then stopped as the young man on the floor cringed and curled into a ball. Reaching down, he grabbed a handful of hair and yanked Jabbar's head up, "Do you have any idea what you done?" Disgusted by the abject fear staring back at him, he slammed Naser's head into the floor and stood up, ignoring the pitiful yelp of pain.

Angry, frustrated and more than a little worried, he began to pace back and forth. Thanks to this mindless idiot, what had been a minor problem had just escalated into a major disaster. If he were truly honest with himself, the blame would be his own. He should have been more careful about alerting the others.

It had been a surprise when the FBI had shown up at Rashid's. He had expected the local police, not the federal. That had been a mistake on his part for not anticipating the hate crime angle. It was a fact of which he was sure his employer was well aware. Federal agents tended to look longer and harder at certain crimes, something they didn't need at this particular time. Finding out that the man accompanying the agent was a consultant with a reputation for genius had added to the tension. Still, he could be glib when he needed to be and he'd assured his leader that there was no real need to worry. There was nothing to connect his people to Akil's death. It had only been through sheer bad luck that the young Saudi had stumbled across the group's existence and that had been rectified. One loose end had been Akil's infidel whore and he had personally overseen that interrogation early this morning. In the end, she had told him everything and now she was residing in a landfill with the rest of the garbage.

Although nothing had been said on the subject, he knew the other loose end was McKlellan. That pompous and trice cursed jackass was out of his reach for the time being. He would have to bide his time and wait for an opportunity. Considering the man's arrogance, it shouldn't be too long before the petty officer made a mistake and gave his people an opening. In the meantime, he'd have to trust that McKlellan would keep his mouth shut. The man had a strong survival instinct. He had to know that it would be in his best interests to keep quiet about his black market dealings.

It would be annoying but not impossible to establish a new connection within the military. It wouldn't jeopardize their agenda, a point he'd be sure to make should his employer bring it up. What had jeopardized everything they had worked for was still lying on the floor, mewling for forgiveness. He'd sworn to himself to rectify that mistake also. By all that was holy, whatever had possessed that pathetic idiot to attempt to kidnap a world famous academic who was also the brother of a FBI agent?! And, when the professor had unexpectedly resisted, had shot but not killed the man. What had been a routine investigation would now have a blood debt attached to it. Special Agent Eppes possessed a formidable reputation and now he had vengeance to goad him on. The only way to stop him would be to kill him and that would bring even more unwanted attention.

Speaking of which, he strode into the small kitchenette. Quietly, he opened drawers until he located the cooking utensils. Rummaging through, he smiled when he found the meat skewer. Sliding it up his sleeve, he walked back into the living room and found that Naser had managed to pull himself together enough to sit up. Gesturing sharply, he barked, "Get up." Naser scrambled quickly to his feet and stood uncertainly, a hand pressed to his side. The man pointed towards the laptop sitting on dining table, "I want you to look up FBI Special Agent Donald Eppes." Jabbar hesitated briefly and then scurried forward, blatantly relieved at the chance to redeem himself. The man waited a few minutes until Naser was immersed in his search, then walked silently up behind the younger man, sliding the meat skewer out. Moving suddenly, he grabbed Naser's forehead and shoved the skewer into the base of his skull.

Drawing it back out, he contemplated the body for a moment and then turned to the kitchen. American TV, with its plethora of crime shows featuring forensics, had been educational. While he strongly doubted that such miraculous infallibility was true in real life, it would be an interesting challenge to disguise this murder. Placing the skewer in the sink, he went to the stove. Blowing out the pilot lights, he turned on the gas on both the stove and the oven. Going to the refrigerator, he opened it up and inspected the contents. Pulling out various vegetables, he opened up the freezer next and found a package of chicken. That would do. Throwing the chicken into the sink and turning on the hot water, he calmly began cutting up the onion, pepper and tomatoes. Going to the utensil drawer, he pulled out another skewer. Sliding bits of vegetables onto both skewers, he checked the condition of the chicken. The hot water was beginning to thaw it out. Going back to the refrigerator, he pulled out a gallon container of lemonade. It was nearly full.

Carrying the lemonade to the dining table, he put it down and then went rummaging through more drawers. Finding a spool of thread, he returned to the lemonade and tied one end of the thread to the handle. Unrolling it, he moved to a lamp sitting on the end table. Positioning the lamp so that it teetered on the edge, he secured the other end of the thread to it, switched it on and stepped back to observe his handiwork. The weight of the gallon container kept the lamp in place. After a moment's thought, he took off the lampshade and laid it on the floor near where the lamp would land. Going back to the kitchen, he found the chicken sufficiently thawed to hack off some pieces to complete his 'meal'. Putting them on a plate, he placed it in the oven and closed the door. Turning next to the stovetop, he placed a pot of water on one of the burners. Rewrapping the remainder of the chicken, he threw it back in the freezer and surveyed the kitchen. The stage was set.

Returning to the dining table, he reached around the body and typed in a website that contained pornographic material. Smiling to himself, he slid the laptop back far enough that he could rest Jabbar's arms on the table and drape his hands on the keyboard. He didn't expect the computer to survive the explosion but if it did, no one would be suspicious about the content. Lifting his head, he sniffed the air. The smell of gas was growing stronger, it was time for the final detail before he left. Pulling a pocketknife out, he punched several small slits in the bottom of the lemonade. Liquid began dripping out in a steady fashion. When the gallon container became too light, the lamp would crash to the floor and the electrical flash from the breaking bulb would set off the gas. With luck, there would be nothing but charred remains for the Americans to look at.

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	11. Chapter 11

Sorry for the delay in posting. Life has been increasingly hectic. Fencing season has started with practice 2 nights a week and I've also had to take work home for the last week. That is going to be an ongoing situation and it's seriously cutting into my free time. I'll post as fast as I can but I thought I'd better warn y'all.

Chapter 11

Friday,

Pasadena Medical Center

Pasadena, CA

1213 Local

"Mr. Eppes?" A tall, distinguished looking black man in surgical scrubs walked into the waiting area and looked around.

"Right here," Alan hurriedly stood up.

"I'm Dr. LaRosa. I was the attending surgeon for Charles Eppes."

"How is he? Is he all right?" Anxiety colored Alan's tone. Don, Amita and Larry, who had joined the group 20 minutes ago, also gathered around to hear what the doctor had to say.

"He'll be fine. As we suspected, there was no damage to his vital organs. There'll be some discomfort from the procedure and we'd like to keep him overnight to make sure there are no complications. If all goes well, we'll release him in the morning." He held up a finger, "He'll need to take it easy for a few days, nothing more strenuous than sitting on the couch. We'll send him home with some mild pain medication. He doesn't have to take it if he doesn't want to. Have his regular doctor check him over after three days, he'll be able to give you a better idea of when your son can return to his normal routine."

"Thank you, Doctor." Alan smiled in relief and then glanced at the others, "Can we see him?"

Dr. LaRosa glanced at his watch, "In about 45 minutes or so. He's in Recovery right now, he'll be moved to a room shortly." He nodded back towards the nurses' station, "They'll let you know when. If you'll excuse me?" He turned and walked back up the corridor.

Alan dropped back into a chair and rubbed a hand across his forehead. Don sat down next to him, "He's going to be fine."

"I know, I know." Alan lowered his hand to look at his oldest son, "It's just that - I mean, this is Charlie. He's a college professor for god sakes. These things aren't supposed to happen."

Don took a deep breath, "I know, Dad. I'm sorry."

"What? Donnie, no. I'm not blaming you. The world's gone crazy. I just can't believe it happened at CalSci. Amita said it was one of his students?" Alan found the whole idea inconceivable. From everything he'd heard, his son was well-liked by the student body. Why would one of them bring a gun to class and shoot Charlie?

"I'm finding it hard to believe, too." Don muttered, his eyes on the floor. He didn't know if it had anything to do with their current case but he damn sure was going to find out. It couldn't have been McKlellan, he didn't even know Charlie existed. If Fawwaz had been involved in something illegal, why would his surviving cohorts want to blatantly advertise their existence with something as stupid as this attack?

Alan stared at his son, his expression beginning to darken, "Are you saying this has to do with his consulting work?"

"I honestly don't know. Officially, Charlie's part of our case with Mac and Harm but we've barely scratched the surface. We haven't needed his skills yet. It doesn't make sense." Don rubbed absently at the back of his neck. Could this have to do with an older case? Not many people outside the Bureau knew just how much his brother had helped with various investigations. It was possible, of course. A careless word spoken to a spouse and innocently spread to others could conceivably reach the wrong ears.

The sound of hurrying feet had him looking up. Don was surprised to see Mac and an older gentleman walk briskly into the waiting room. How had she found out? Alan was in the middle of standing up and Don scrambled to his feet as well. Mac looked from one to the other with concern plain on her face, "How's Charlie?"

"He's going to fine," Alan reassured her.

"Thank god," Mac smiled in relief. She glanced back at the older man and gave her head a quick shake, "I'm sorry. Alan, Don, I'd like you to meet Harm's father, Frank Burnett. Frank, this is Charlie's father, Alan Eppes, and his brother, Don."

Frank smiled as he shook hands with Don and then Alan, "I'm glad to hear your son is going to recover."

Alan returned his smile, "Thanks. I understand your son is going to be okay, too."

Frank chuckled ruefully as he ran a hand over the back of his head, "Yes he is, and it only cost me a few dozen more gray hairs."

"Tell me about it," Alan glanced over at Don, "Although, considering their lines of work, it's not Charlie I usually worry about."

"Lucky you," Frank directed a dry look at Mac, "My wife and I now have both these two to worry about. It's beyond me how a couple of lawyers can get into so much trouble." He glanced over Alan's shoulder and nodded to Larry and Amita who were watching the exchange.

Alan turned around, "Forgive me, I don't know where my manners are." He gestured for Larry and Amita to come forward, "Frank, Mac, these are Charlie's friends and colleagues, Dr. Larry Fleinhart and Dr. Amita Ramanujan. Larry, Amita, Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie and Frank Burnett." The four nodded politely to each other.

Mac looked over at Don, "What happened?"

"What do you think happened?" The sound of David Sinclair's low angry voice had everyone turning. Advancing on Mac, he jabbed a finger at her, "I told you he shouldn't have come with us. This is your fault. You're lucky Charlie wasn't killed."

"That's enough!" Don snapped, his expression hard. "Excuse us," he threw over his shoulder at the group who were standing there with in various degrees of surprise. He gestured sharply towards the hallway, "You two with me. Now." Striding out of the waiting room, he didn't bother looking to see if Mac or David were following. Finding a relatively clear area between doorways, he spun around on his heel and glared at his agent, "Dammit David, what the hell was that all about?"

"Ask the Colonel," an unrepentant David retorted, folding his arms.

Don turned his attention to Mac and was surprised to see her looking somewhat stricken. "What's going on?" his tone was less harsh.

Mac looked from Don to David, "Oh god, the shooter was Rashid?"

"Fawwaz's roommate?" Don looked bewildered for a moment and then scowled, "Why the hell would he go after my brother?"

"Because he recognized Charlie when we were interviewing him at UCLA," David glared at Mac. "I told you he shouldn't have come with us."

"Wait a minute," Don held up a hand as he looked at David, "The cops identified Rashid as the shooter?"

Sinclair hesitated a moment and then shook his head, "Not exactly. According to some of the kids, the shooter wasn't a regular student. They thought he was just sitting in on the class. From their descriptions, he was Middle Eastern." He directed another hostile stare at Mac, "It doesn't take a brain surgeon to connect the dots. We rattled Rashid with our questions and he went after the only guy he could find - who shouldn't have been there in the first place!"

Don stared at his partner in exasperation, what the hell was going on between these two? It wasn't like David to jump to conclusions and then beat someone over the head with them. Charlie had actually told him about accompanying Mac and David on the interview with Rashid. Don hadn't been happy but he also hadn't seen the harm. Fawwaz was the victim and talking to his roommate didn't seem particularly fraught with danger. He wasn't about to make the mistake of blaming anyone through hindsight. He couldn't honestly say he wouldn't have let Charlie tag along as well. His brother could be persistent as hell when he wanted to be. Don didn't have to look at Mac to know she was about to hit the ceiling. He held up a hand to forestall any more accusations and said quietly, "David, Charlie didn't say anything about recognizing the shooter. It couldn't have been Rashid or Husam and Amita thought the guy looked Indian."

"So they sent someone else to do it. It doesn't change anything. If Charlie hadn't been at that interview, he wouldn't have been targeted!" David countered angrily.

"I can't believe this. You have no idea who shot Charlie, do you? How dare you?!" Mac struggled to keep her temper under control. She pointed a finger at David as he opened his mouth to argue, "No! I have had enough of your unwarranted hostility. You've been a pain in the ass since I've met you and I'm getting damned tired of it." She took a step towards the glowering agent, "Do you have any evidence at all that implicates Rashid or Husam in Charlie's shooting?"

David glanced over at Don who was watching the exchange silently, his face unreadable. He turned back to the Colonel and said reluctantly, "No."

"Have you found anything linking Rashid and Husam to Fawwaz aside from the roommate angle?" Mac cut off any additional comments from Sinclair as she slid into her courtroom interrogation demeanor without conscious thought.

"No." He gave her a hard stare, his irritation increasing at being grilled.

Mac matched David, glare for glare, "So, as far as we know, there's not one fact to support Rashid or his cousin being involved in Fawwaz's murder and without that, there's no reason for them to go after Charlie." She paused for a moment, waiting. Sinclair scowled but didn't contradict her. As infuriating as this woman was, she was also correct. There wasn't a damn shred of evidence against either man.

Mac looked away for second or two and then took a deep breath, "Despite that, I happen to agree with you. Husam and Rashid are involved somehow. The problem I'm having is that what you're suggesting doesn't make any sense." David stared at her in silent surprise, obviously trying to figure out where the hell she was going next.

She took advantage of his dilemma, "Let's assume that those two are mixed up in something illegal and Fawwaz either crossed them or got in the way. That hotel room was locked and paid for for three days and yet he's found within hours. His murder was discovered way earlier than expected. Now take it a step further - say you're the leader of this group that's in danger of being exposed. Do you lay low or do you order an attack on a civilian consultant whose brother happens to be the FBI agent heading the investigation?"

"They could have been trying to send us a message to back off," David gamely tried continuing the argument although he was becoming more subdued. It didn't help that Megan had made these very same points in an attempt to head him off at the pass.

"Back off from what? We don't have anything." Mac shook her head. She folded her arms and swore silently when it jostled her sore wrist, "So what happens now?"

It took David a second to catch up with the next change in direction, "What?"

"What happens is we're going to turn over every rock in this city until we find that shooter," Don finally spoke, his voice lethally quiet.

"Exactly." Mac shifted her attention from David to Don. "There's cultural aspect you might have to consider, too. If this is connected to Husam or Rashid, then there's a blood debt involved now. They made it personal when they went after your brother. This won't end until it's settled, one way or the other. They'll expect nothing less and if they're planning something, this puts a serious obstacle in the way."

"Are you kidding? You're telling me that they'll have to kill me or I have to kill them?" Don stared at her. Not that he didn't feel like shooting the SOB who'd gone after Charlie, but thoughts of the bloody and bitter sectarian violence in Iraq came to mind. These people made the Hatfield-McCoy feud look like a mild disagreement.

"Something like that," Mac nodded. "But they've got a serious problem. Killing a federal agent would bring tremendous scrutiny and that would effectively end whatever plot they're hatching. Do you see what I mean by stupid? Shooting Charlie was one of the worse things they could have done. The worst thing would be killing you."

David stared at her in disbelief, "Oh come on, now you're saying this attack on Charlie was just a random act of violence by some nut who happens to be of Middle-Eastern descent? Give me a break."

Mac gave him an icy look, "No, I'm saying that someone reacted impulsively, without orders and without a lot of thought." She turned back to Don, "If I were you, I'd be checking the morgues. Mistakes like this come with a high price."

Friday,

Pasadena Medical Center

Pasadena, CA

1225 Local

Frank watched his future daughter-in-law walk down the corridor with the two men, then turned towards Alan and the others, "What's going on? Who was that?"

"That was one of Don's team, Special Agent David Sinclair, and I have no idea why he would say something like that," Alan answered, still looking mystified. From what he knew of the man, this was completely uncharacteristic. Judging by Don's reaction, it had taken his son by surprise, too. Unfortunately, he also knew that once Don had settled the dispute, it was unlikely that he'd divulge any details.

Frank shook his head, frowning uncomfortably, "Well, this is a little awkward." He looked at the other three, "What happened, exactly, if I may ask? Sarah was somewhat sparse with the details."

Alan looked towards Amita and Larry, "Actually, I wouldn't mind knowing myself. I'm afraid not much registered after I heard the words, 'Charlie's been shot'."

Amita shifted self-consciously and then gestured towards the chairs, "Would you mind if we sit?" They settled around her and she once again went through all she'd seen.

There was a brief silence after she'd finished and then Alan put a hand on her shoulder, "It doesn't seem like enough but thank you. You saved Charlie's life." The others nodded their agreement while Amita blushed and shook her head. She was relieved of further scrutiny by the arrival of Don and Mac. Alan gave his eldest a questioning look, "Where's David?"

Don shot Mac the barest of glances before saying, "He's gone back to the office to check out a new lead on the shooter."

Alan grunted thoughtfully before waving towards the chairs, "Well, have a seat. We've still got a bit of a wait before we can see Charlie." Quiet descended as each person became immersed in their own thoughts. Finally, Alan cleared his throat and looked over to where Mac and Frank were sitting, "How's Harm doing?" From he and Mac's early morning conversation, he felt like he already knew the Commander.

Mac rolled her eyes while Frank answered with a grin, "At the moment, I'd say he was irritated."

"That's putting it mildly. He wanted to come and he's not allowed out of bed yet," Mac added. Seeing the curious looks on Larry and Amita's faces, Mac explained, "Commander Harmon Rabb is my partner in this investigation. Last night, we were walking back to the hotel after dinner and got caught in a drive-by shooting. Harm was among the people hit." She lifted her bandaged wrist for a moment, "I just wound up with a few bruises. He'll be okay but he's stuck in the hospital for a couple more days. He's not taking it well."

Amita looked surprised, "I saw that on the news this morning. The police think it's gang-related."

Mac had heard the news reports too, but hadn't had time to talk to Don about it. As much as she would have preferred it to be a nasty case of 'wrong place, wrong time,' she couldn't shake the feeling that this was somehow related to their investigation. She managed a weak smile, "And I thought DC could be dangerous. Believe me, I don't think Harm and I will be doing any more strolling in downtown LA after dark."

There was another brief silence before Larry brought his hands together and thoughtfully tapped his chin, "Still, two shootings in two days? That hardly seems coincidental."

Amita turned to look at him, "Larry, the circumstances are pretty disparate."

"With a common denominator," Professor Fleinhart pointed out. He looked over at Don, "That is rather obvious, is it not?"

Don shifted uncomfortably as he glanced around, "This isn't the place."

Larry blinked at him and then raised his hands, "No, of course not, you're quite right." He dropped his hands to his knees and after a quick glance at Amita, leaned forward, "After we've seen Charles, shall we adjourn to your office?"

Mac stared at the little man and then directed a look at Don. He nodded reassuringly, "It's okay, Dr. Fleinhart and Dr. Ramanujan have assisted us before." Actually he wasn't all that comfortable bringing Charlie's friends into whatever this was but they had to get a handle on everything and fast. He needed all the help he could get.

His attention was diverted by the appearance of a nurse in the waiting room. She smiled pleasantly at the group, "You can see Mr. Eppes now. He's in Room 245."

"How is he?" Alan asked a trifle anxiously. Despite all the reassurances, he couldn't help himself. This was his son.

"He's a little uncomfortable from the procedure but that should dissipate with time." She smiled at Alan and pointed to the corridor on the left, "I think he's impatient to see all of you, too."

Everyone stood but as the rest started to move, Mac and Frank hung back. Don stopped and looked them. Mac raised a hand with a slight shake of her head, "Go on. We'll wait out here."

Don frowned, "You sure?"

Mac nodded, "He should be with his family and friends. Go on. We'll be fine." She watched as he hurried off to join the others and then turned away, wrapping her arms around herself.

Frank watched her for a moment and then carefully closed the distance. Placing a hand lightly on her shoulder, he ducked his head so he could see her face, "It's been a tough couple of days, hasn't it?"

Mac nodded her head slightly, not trusting herself to speak. She'd had David going in so many directions she was certain he hadn't yet realized that she'd finally agreed that Charlie's shooting was her fault. Mac had no doubt that Don had picked up on it. She was feeling horribly responsible.

Frank was silent for a few seconds while he studied the woman in front of him. She was a good match for his stepson and he and Trish already loved her dearly but this was one trait he wished she didn't share with Harm. Both of them tended to assume the blame for situations beyond their control. "I don't care what that guy said. This wasn't your fault."

Mac tried a smile and only half succeeded, "I keep trying to believe that but this case seems to be the only motive and I was the one who got Charlie involved." She tiredly rubbed at her face, "Dr. Fleinhart was right, two shootings in two days? That's not a coincidence."

"Maybe, maybe not," Frank countered. "The two don't sound related. A street gang that shot up half a city block and some deranged college student with a pistol?"

"I know," Mac sank down into a chair and slumped forward a little, resting her head in her good hand. She was quiet for a few moments, "I'm pretty sure the attack on Charlie was unplanned, or I should say, unauthorized. It also seems fairly obvious that it's somehow connected to our murder victim. What I can't figure out is how a street gang got involved. Nothing in this case points towards them."

"Which supports the random attack theory." Frank saw the look Mac gave him and sighed a little, "Or not." He sat down next to her and leaned forward as well, resting his elbows on his knees, "Have you considered that perhaps someone pointed them at you?"

Mac's eyes narrowed, "McKlellan." She saw the questioning look on Frank's face, "The petty officer accused of killing the victim. So far, we can't find any evidence to support that but Harm's pretty sure he's into the black market. If so, it's possible he's been dealing with street gangs. They'd be very interested in any firepower he could provide. Maybe he made them a deal, guns in exchange for a couple of killings."

"So this McKlellan person might have been trying to derail your investigation by having you both murdered?" Frank looked incredulous.

"It's possible. It'd be pretty hard to prove, in any case. He has deniability and they can say they were after someone else." Mac's expression told Frank that if McKlellan was behind the drive-by shooting, he'd just made a fatal error in judgment.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Don caught up with the rest just as they reached the door of Charlie's room. Alan gave Don a quizzical look and received a 'Tell you later' shrug in reply. Shrugging himself, he pushed open the door and smiled at his youngest son, "Charlie! How are you feeling?" Alan moved to one side of the bed, along with Don, while Larry and Amita went to the other side.

"I'm fine, Dad," Charlie looked tired and a trifle pale but he was smiling at his family and friends. He directed a somewhat anxious look at Amita, "Are you okay? Everything's a little blurry after I knocked that kid down."

"I'm good," Amita reassured the young professor.

"Unless you count the years you scared off of her," Don threw in with mock asperity. "Stop doing that."

"Gladly," Charlie retorted and then the two brothers grinned at each other. Charlie sobered after a moment, "I suppose it's too much to ask that the cops caught the guy?"

Don shook his head, "He's in the wind for now. We'll get him, though." He couldn't help the faint grimace as he remembered what Mac had said about it. He had a feeling that she knew what she was talking about when she told them to start checking the morgues.

"Don?"

He looked up to find everyone watching him, "What?"

"What's wrong?" Charlie asked after glancing at the others.

Don snorted, "You mean aside from some nut shooting you in your own classroom?"

Charlie gave him a penetrating stare, "That's exactly what I mean. What's going on?"

Damn, when had his brother become so intuitive? Don blew out a frustrated breath while he considered what to say. Glancing at the closed door, he made his decision. Everyone here was, or was about to be, involved in this anyway, "This could be tied to Fawwaz. Mac thinks the shooter was a rogue - acting on his own." He took a deep breath and glanced at the group again, "She told us these people won't tolerate mistakes like this and to look for him in the morgue."

Alan looked shocked, "You're joking."

Amita, on the other hand, was looking perplexed, "'These people'?"

"It's beginning to look like we might have stumbled across some sort of sleeper cell," Don frowned. Mac hadn't said so but the inference seemed clear to him. Unfortunately, all they had were conjectures at this point. What they needed to find was evidence. If this did turn out to be a terrorist group, then the Joint Terrorism Task Force would have to get involved. Don wasn't all that keen on having one of his cases poached, especially one that involved an attack on Charlie. Would Merrick go to bat for him to keep the interference to a minimum? Maybe he should talk to Cresswell. The Marine general sounded like he had dealt with his share of turf wars. If he was anything like Mac, he was probably capable of sending bureaucrats scurrying.

"Oh my," Larry said faintly.

"When did you talk to Mac?" Charlie asked at the same time.

"Just now, she's still in the waiting room with Commander Rabb's father."

"She didn't want to come in?" Charlie managed to sound a little hurt, earning him a sharp look from Amita.

Don shook his head, "She said it would be better to just have family and friends for now. I don't think she wanted to intrude."

"She wouldn't be intruding. Would you ask her to come in?" Charlie studied his brother, relieved that Don didn't seem annoyed or angry with him for getting himself shot. Now he was trying to decipher whether or not Don was blaming the Colonel instead. It had been apparent, even before Don said anything, that the gunman was part of the Fawwaz case and it was equally obvious that David would be saying 'I told you so'. If it was anyone's fault, it was his own. If he had acquiesced to staying behind instead of losing his temper, Mac wouldn't have jumped in on his side and he would have never met Rashid or Husam. He didn't doubt for one moment that the gunman was involved with one or the other. Nothing else made sense.

"Sure, you got it," Don headed out the door. He hated to admit it but he needed a little time to regroup anyway. Despite what David or Mac thought, what it came down to was that he had failed to protect his little brother. It didn't help that Charlie had been looking at him like he was some sort of unsolvable math problem. Was his brother finally reconsidering their work together? Don couldn't blame him if he was. This wasn't what he had signed on for. Hell, the guy had worked for the NSA and no one had tried to kill him. Consultants were supposed to give their opinions, collect their fees and go their merry way. No one was supposed to track them down and shoot them.

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	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Friday,

Liwanu Enterprises

Los Angeles,

1135 local

"Mr. Bander, Congressman Park is on line two. Would you like to speak with him?" Margery Threetrails made a small wager with herself on her boss' response.

Carson Uzumati Bander considered the request for a few moments and then touched the speaker button, "Tell him I'm in a meeting right now, please. Have him call back." He made it a point not to be easily accessible to government types. The higher they were on the food chain, the longer he took to get back to them. Rather than be offended, it made them that much more persistent. The fact that he was worth billions and wasn't afraid to spend it, probably helped. Bander wielded enormous power but he preferred to keep behind the scenes.

Margery smiled as she relayed the message, exuding a warm sympathy that helped derail the Congressman's obvious annoyance. This had been Park's third call and one he'd made personally after his staff had been unable to penetrate the layers that surrounded Mr. Bander. She was the last and most formidable line of defense. It amused her to no end to watch Mr. Bander maneuver these people to a point where they were grateful for any scrap he'd throw.

As employers went, Liwanu Enterprises was probably considered somewhat unusual. Bander was half Native American on his mother's side. Her parents were an unlikely match of Miwok and Pawnee tribes. He never spoke of his white father, instead embracing the heritage and culture of his mother's people. In what Margery liked to consider as an entirely justifiable case of reverse discrimination, every important position at Liwanu Enterprises from middle management on up was staffed by people with Native American blood. If you were white, hispanic or black - all the tedious, disagreeable and unpleasant work was yours. Bander was wily enough not to be blatant about it but most of the senior staff knew - and approved.

Margery herself was full-blooded Navajo, a rare enough occurrence considering the rampant genocide of the Native American people begun by the Spanish and nearly completed by the US government. Bander had come to her high school on the reservation to talk about successfully competing in the white world without losing one's sense of self. It had struck a resonate chord and she'd sought him out afterwards to ask more questions. After he'd gone, she decided he would be her role model. Already a good student, she applied herself even more vigorously. One day she would meet Mr. Bander again and it would be on equal footing. In the meantime, she did her best to follow his career. Their meeting happened sooner than she expected. When she graduated at the top of her class, a fully-paid ride to any college of her choice was presented by the Bander Trust. It seemed he had been watching her as well.

After she obtained a Masters in Business, Margery began work at Liwanu Enterprises, moving steadily up the corporate ladder until she found herself in the position of Executive Administrative Assistant to Carson 'Bear' Bander. It was lucrative and educational on a level not found in any university. The Bear was a force of nature and she loved working for him. He was one of the most intelligent and driven men she'd ever met. His business dealings were widespread and diverse and he'd been smart enough to not only surround himself with intelligent, resourceful people but to listen to their opinions as well. There were no yes-men at Liwanu Enterprises.

His deepest passion was for their people and his fire was fueled by the outrage at their persecution and destruction. Margery knew she'd do anything for him if he asked. There was no fear of impropriety. He'd made it clear in the beginning that he'd never abuse his power in that way and should she attempt to advance herself through sex, her employment would be at an end. The Bear kept his personal life extremely personal. She didn't even know if he was married and didn't particularly care. She was there to learn and to help him succeed. One day in the future, she would be running her own empire.

Bander stood up and walked over to the window. He knew Margery would mollify Park and that the Congressman would try yet again. It was an unending game with these politicians. He would let her handle Park one more time before letting the man through. Margery soaked up these sort of experiences like a sponge and having her in the 'good cop' role would enhance her growing reputation. The young woman was one of the brightest people he'd seen in a while and he would do what he could to make sure she went far. In the years ahead, she would be another valuable ally.

Bander folded his arms. Potential allies were always a good thing in this complex design he was weaving. There were wheels within wheels and he had a finger on each of them. Now, finally, all the years he'd spent building this huge empire were paying off. The businesses no longer required his complete attention - the people he put in charge were competent and extremely loyal. So long as he didn't neglect them altogether, he would have time for this ultimate endeavor. If everything worked as planned, the economic and political fabric of the United States would be changed forever. He didn't expect it to be easy. That wasn't how life worked and, as if to prove his point, there had been a couple of bumps lately. He would have to keep an eye on the developments. It wouldn't do to have federal agents meddling too soon. Husam ak-Abdel was supposedly one of the best in the business but Bander didn't truly trust him any further than he could throw the man. Still, if Husam's band was the only glitch, it wouldn't matter much in the overall scheme of things. They were merely one pawn in a series of moves that would eventually bring down that bloated and corrupt entity known as the US government.

Shifting so that his shoulder was leaning against the glass, Bander gazed out the window. The vast panorama of LA was laid out before him. He loved the land and grieved for it as well. His hatred for the white invaders and the government who had committed and condoned so many atrocities reached back centuries. It was fitting that it had taken years to pull his plan together. Now, at long last, the pieces were in place and everything was in motion. Payback was going to be hell.

Friday,

Pasadena Medical Center

1245 Local

Frank noticed Don first and gave Mac a gentle nudge. Her head shot up and she couldn't help the sudden worry, "Don? What's wrong? Is Charlie okay?"

"He's fine, nothing's wrong." Don raised a soothing hand, "He heard you were here and he wanted to see you."

"Oh." At a loss for something else to say, she stood up and then shot a guilty look at Frank.

"It's okay, Sarah. Go on, I'll find something to read." Frank gave her a light push, "Don't keep the young man waiting."

Don spoke up, "I'll stay and keep Mr. Burnett company. Go talk to Charlie. Room 245, over that way." He gestured down the hall.

The two men watched her leave and then looked at each other. Frank spoke first, "Thanks but it's really not necessary to stay with me, Agent Eppes. You should get back to your family. I'll be fine out here."

Don shook his head, "It's Don and don't worry. I'll see Charlie again after everyone else has had a chance." He dropped into a chair and scrubbed a hand through his hair.

"It wears you down, doesn't it?" Frank studied the younger man with interest. It had been obvious from listening to Mac that she already had quite a bit of respect for the Eppes men.

"Oh yeah," Don leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he folded his hands. He glanced up to see Frank watching him and gave the other man a questioning look.

Frank waved a hand, "Sorry, I was curious. Sarah thinks pretty highly of you and your family and Harm nearly had to be tied down to stop him from coming here. Neither of them are easy to impress."

Don regarded him for a moment, digesting that. It seemed silly to be pleased, he usually made an effort not to let other people's opinions affect him, but it was nice to hear, "How long have you known Mac?"

Frank leaned back, relaxing a little, "Harm's mother and I have known of her for almost as long as Harm has known her but we didn't actually meet Sarah until about three years ago. They're quite a pair." He chuckled ruefully, "For the longest while, we didn't think they'd ever get it right and see what they had in each other. I believe Trish was ready on more than one occasion to take a stick to one or the other and beat some sense into them."

"Harm told me they were engaged," Don frowned slightly, making it more of question.

"Finally, it only took them nine years to figure it out," Frank shook his head in wonder of it all.

Don's eyebrows rose a little and then he smiled, "Maybe I should have you talk to my dad. I'm pretty sure he's beginning to think Charlie and I are a lost cause."

Frank eyed the younger man, "I don't know. I think I'd be on your father's side. If either of you have someone on the horizon, my advice would be not to wait. Life's too damn short." He watched Don shift uncomfortably and gave a slight shrug, "That's just my opinion. I'm sure you and your brother know what's best."

"You'd think," Don muttered quietly, half to himself. He should have forced Charlie to quit consulting after the sniper incident, then none of this would have happened. Instead, he'd been selfish, making use of his brother's considerable talents to help solve his cases.

"You're not talking about girlfriends any more, are you?" Frank inquired softly. When Don didn't answer, Frank shook his head. No wonder Harm and Sarah liked this man, peas in a pod, all three of them. He cleared his throat to get the FBI agent's attention, "This isn't your fault either, you know. If you want to blame someone, blame the idiot with the gun."

"Oh I plan to." The fierce note in Don's voice told Frank the truth of that statement.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Mac tapped on the door and then cautiously entered. Alan smiled and waved her over, "Come in, Mac."

She walked up to the bed, relieved to see Charlie smiling at her, "Hey Charlie, how are you feeling?" Mac noticed Amita moving possessively closer and swallowed a smile. She could empathize with the young woman's covert jealousy. Women gravitated towards Harm all the time.

Charlie's eyes dropped to the covers for a moment, "Stupid, mostly. I can't believe I got myself shot."

Mac gave him a dry look, "I know the feeling." She changed gears and smiled, "I'm glad you're going to be okay. Harm wanted to come along to see you, too. I had to threaten him to make him stay put."

"How's he doing?" Charlie was more than willing to focus on something besides himself. He loved his father but this incident was going to cause some serious hovering. Now if it were Amita... he scolded himself for letting his attention wander and concentrated again on what Mac was saying.

"... should be released in the next day or so, provided he takes it easy." Mac's expression told the others that the odds were slim that that would happen.

"That's good. I'm supposed to be out by tomorrow morning." Charlie glanced at Amita and Larry, "Maybe we can get a handle on both shootings and how these people are connected. I was thinking about applying social networking."

"Charlie..." Alan said warningly. "You're supposed to take it easy, remember?"

Charlie rolled his eyes, "C'mon Dad, it's not like I'm going to be running around. It's math."

Mac was looking from Charlie to Amita and Larry, "You can use math to find the shooter?"

"Don't get him started." Everyone turned to see Don leaning on the doorjamb, arms crossed and a wry expression on his face. Almost all his attention was focused on Charlie.

Mac looked back and forth between the two brothers and decided it was a good time to leave, "I should get back to Harm. He'll be climbing the walls pretty soon wondering what happened." She grabbed Charlie's hand and gave it a quick squeeze, "I'm glad you're going to be okay. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Thanks," Charlie answered, most of his attention on Don. He forced himself to focus on Mac, "I'll need to talk to you and Harm, too. We'll need as much data as we can get if we're going to find these people."

"You got it," Mac nodded to the others in the room and headed out. As she passed Don, she slowed down and said softly, "Don't overreact." Then she was gone.

Alan looked between his two sons and decided that Mac had the right idea in leaving. Charlie and Don needed to clear the air between them and that wouldn't happen with an audience. Knowing Charlie was going to be fine had eased his anxiety by a considerable amount. Now it was time to give Donnie what he needed to make sure he would be okay, too. The first step was some one-on-one with his brother. Steps two through infinity would be Alan's to muddle through as best he could. He turned to Charlie and smiled warmly, "I'm going to go find your doctor and see if there's anything else I need to know before we take you home in the morning." He caught Amita's eye and tilted his head slightly towards Don. She stared at him for a moment and then her eyes widened just a bit and she gave an almost imperceptible nod of the head.

She leaned in and gave Charlie a kiss on the cheek and couldn't help smiling as his attention was suddenly on her, "We need to go, too. I'll let Admin know you're going to be okay and make sure your classes will be covered. I'll come back later, if that's okay." She felt a warm glow at his enthusiastic yes.

Don stepped to the side as the three made their way out, Amita herding Larry in front of her. Alan paused by his eldest son, unknowingly parroting Mac, "Don't overreact, Donnie." He glanced back at Charlie one more time and then walked out.

The tension in the room suddenly increased now that it was just the two of them. Charlie picked at the bed covers for a moment as he gathered his courage. When Don didn't speak right away, he decided he would have to go first. Taking a deep breath, Charlie couldn't help wincing at the pain it caused. That had been stupid.

"Aw man, Charlie," Don moved into the room, "I'm so sorry about this."

Charlie gave him a startled look, "What? Don, this wasn't your fault - really."

Don glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck, "I never should have gotten you involved in any of this."

Charlie's eyebrows slowly drew together, "We're just talking about this case, aren't we?"

"What? Oh yeah - sure," Don kept his voice soothing. He was having second thoughts about Charlie's consulting, period, but that wasn't a discussion they needed to have right now. For this case it was a moot point anyway. Charlie wasn't going to be doing anything until he recovered and Don would make damn sure he was completely healed before he would be allowed back. With a little luck, the case would be wrapped up well before that.

"Good," Charlie relaxed a little, "Because I've been thinking about how the shooter is linked to Fawwaz's murder."

"Charlie," Don admonished, "Give it a rest and let us handle it."

"But you need my help," Charlie eyed his brother, trying not to sound too desperate. Dammit, Don was going to try and kick him off.

"No, we don't," Don could feel his temper starting to slip. This was a facet of his brother's character that drove him crazy. The assumption that he could make anything he applied himself to work better. "Hell, the Bureau has muddled along on its own for nearly a century. I think we can handle one investigation without you." He relented at the look on Charlie's face, "Aw c'mon, Charlie. That didn't come out the way I meant. I just don't want anything else to happen and that means you laying low until we can catch the shooter."

"But what about what Mac said? That this was a mistake?" Charlie plucked at the bedcovers again, "Look, I know you guys are good at what you do and that I'm only the math geek. I just... I need to do something. I need to know that I'm making a difference. I was so - " He took a careful breath, hating to admit to his big (and devastatingly competent) brother that he was such a wuss, "I was so scared when I saw that gun. I didn't know what to do and then Amita walked in and all I could think was what if... " Charlie fell silent, not wanting to look Don in the eye.

Don shifted uncomfortably as he realized that his brother was more embarrassed about the shooting than worried about future events. He put a hand out, "Hey, it's okay. You did good. You got yourself and Amita out of there."

"And got shot in the process," Charlie mumbled, his eyes still downcast.

"Luck on his part," Don retorted. He rubbed the back of his neck again knowing their father would seriously consider killing him, "Look, you can stay on the case." He held up a hand at the sudden smile on his brother's face, "On two conditions - first, you take all of tomorrow off. Don't even think about any of this." Don took on a sly grin, "You're going to need it. You owe Amita a day of your undivided attention. You scared the hell out of her." His grin grew wider at the blush that tinged Charlie's features. "And if I were you, I'd throw in flowers and chocolate, too."

"Yeah," Charlie said softly and then looked up at Don, "What's the other condition?"

Don gave a dramatic shudder, "For god sakes, don't tell Dad."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Frank glanced over at Mac. She was staring out the passenger window, her expression one of fierce concentration. "Sarah? What are you thinking?" He had to repeat the question one more time before it broke through.

Mac gave him an apologetic look, "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention. What did you ask?"

Frank waved a hand, "Don't worry about it. Are you okay?"

"I'm not sure," Mac sighed. She was silent for a moment and then asked, "Would you swing by our hotel so I can pick up our car? You shouldn't have to keep playing chauffeur."

"I don't mind," Frank replied, suddenly worried about what she was planning. "It's been a rough 24 hours. I'll feel better if you let me deal with the traffic. For today, anyway," he added, not wanting to appear too pushy.

Mac eyed him for a moment and then acquiesced, "Well, if you're sure." As much as she wanted to confront McKlellan and kick his ass, it probably wasn't the best idea she'd ever had. The man was dangerous and while she was thoroughly pissed, she wasn't foolhardy. In any case, she still needed to get back to Harm. He was probably beside himself wondering what was going on with Charlie. After she'd updated him, she'd see about returning to the FBI offices and checking in with Don. Dr. Fleinhart was correct in pointing out the anomaly of two shootings in as many days although she still had no idea how a physicist and a mathematician could help with locating the shooters, much less tying both incidents together. It didn't take long before they were back at the hospital. Mac barely made it into Harm's room before he was plying her with questions. She held up her hands, "Harm, give me a minute!"

He subsided, albeit reluctantly, and Mac walked over and settled herself on the bed so she could see Trish and Frank as well. "Okay, first off - Charlie will be fine. He was hit in the side and it was a through and through but it missed any vital organs. He's sore and the hospital's going to keep him overnight. He has to take it easy and have his own physician check him over in a couple of days."

"Did he know who shot him? Was it a student?" Trish asked, glancing at Frank. The world had certainly changed since Harm had been in school. How did parents cope these days? She'd be scared witless every time her child was out of her sight.

Frank shook his head at the same time Mac answered, "No, it wasn't a student." She shot a glance at Frank and then looked away, "Umm, it's possible that he's tied to the Fawwaz murder."

Harm's eyebrows rose as he considered that angle and then he frowned, "Are you sure? It doesn't make sense."

Trish looked from Harm to Mac, "I don't understand. What doesn't make sense?"

Mac glanced at Harm for a moment before answering Trish, "Going after Charlie. There's only two people who could connect him with this case and this shooting places the focus squarely on them. If they're responsible for the first murder, then this would be the last thing they'd want."

"Not to mention that Don will be going after them like the wrath of God," Harm added. "He's pretty protective of his brother."

"I saw that," Frank commented.

Mac looked back at Harm, "Charlie didn't recognize the shooter so I'm thinking this was someone connected to our two guys who acted impulsively, without orders."

Harm grunted thoughtfully, "That doesn't say much for the discipline of the group, does it? So we could be dealing with a bunch of amateurs." He arched an eyebrow and suddenly grinned at Mac, "Maybe this is the Acme version of a terrorist cell."

Mac rolled her eyes, "God help us." She grinned back, "So you're saying the shooter was Wile E. Coyote?"

"Why not?" Harm replied, still smiling, "How many terrorist groups have you heard of that would make this kind of mistake?"

Shrugging, Mac tipped her head to the side, "I think I want to be there when you fly this theory past Don Eppes."

Harm airily waved a hand, "Piece of cake. It fits all the parameters."

"If you happen to be the Roadrunner," Mac retorted. Her hand found his and gave it a squeeze, receiving one in turn. He knew her so well. He was doing his best to divert the guilt she was feeling.

Trish and Frank exchanged a glance and then Frank looked at his stepson, "Charlie's friend, Dr. Fleinhart, seems to think yours and Charlie's shootings are somehow related."

Harm stared at his stepfather as his eyebrows went up, "How does he figure that?" He swallowed suddenly as a thought occurred. Mac was a link. She'd been with Charlie earlier and with him during the shooting - and McKlellan might be dealing weapons on the black market. Son of a bitch - not again.

"Harm?" Mac frowned in concern, sharing a look with the Burnetts. "What are you thinking? What's wrong?" He shook his head and her frown deepened, "Don't give me that, Navy. Spill."

Harm shot a glance at his parents and then turned to Mac. "You know it's possible that McKlellan's dealing in stolen weapons." He didn't go any further, just leveled a look at her.

Mac's eyes widened suddenly as she realized what he wasn't saying, "No, no way. It's been years."

"And we need to consider every possibility. You know that," Harm countered. He shifted a little and winced, "Promise me you'll talk to Don about it." When she didn't respond, he added, "Please?"

"Harm?" Trish looked from her son to Mac in sudden worry.

"An old case involving stolen weapons - Mac brought the ring down," Harm figured that was a vague enough explanation. He shot a look at Mac, "It's possible some of the rats got off the ship."

"That was four years ago," Mac protested. "There's no one left." At Harm's pointed look, she gave an exasperated sigh, "Fine, I'll tell Don but it's just going to be a red herring." She turned towards the Burnetts, "Frank, I hate to impose on you again, but do you think you could run me over to the FBI headquarters?" She glanced at Harm, "Charlie's colleagues think they can establish a link between the shootings and I told Don I'd be there while they do whatever it is that they do."

Harm sighed in frustration even as he nodded. This hospitalization was inconvenient as hell. As soon as a doctor showed up, he'd see about springing himself. He needed to keep an eye on Mac.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Friday,

FBI Headquarters

1515 Local

Mac put on her visitor's badge and then made her way through the desks to the area that Don's team called home. Frank had headed back to the hospital after she assured him she could get a ride with one of the FBI agents. Colby Granger was the only one at his desk, the rest of the team was gathered in a glassed-in conference room. Granger was on the phone but he acknowledged her presence with a nod and gestured for her to join the others. She smiled a thank you and he grinned in response and snapped off half a salute before focusing his attention back on the phone. Mac shook her head, still smiling. Colby was well aware that the Navy and Marines did not salute indoors and enjoyed tweaking her. For a former dogface, Granger was okay. He understood the military mindset.

Mac entered the room and moved along the back until she found a seat near Megan Reeves. Dr. Ramanujan was typing away on a laptop while Dr. Fleinhart was scrawling figures on a whiteboard. Don was in a chair near the front, watching intently with his arms crossed. If he'd seen Mac, he didn't acknowledge it. David looked at her briefly and then pointedly ignored her altogether. Reeves glanced over at the brunette, "Interesting effect you have on a room, Colonel MacKenzie." Her voice was quiet.

"I think lack of effect would be more accurate, Agent Reeves," Mac remarked dryly, keeping her voice down as well. While she hadn't expected a rousing welcome, she thought Don would have at least nodded in her direction. The rest of the team seemed to be their usual selves, right down to Sinclair's antipathy. Mac figured she'd wait a few minutes and then ask Megan about it. It was easy to talk to the profiler. The woman had a healthy balance of empathy, intelligence and common sense. She also possessed a wickedly subtle sense of humor that both Mac and Harm were learning to appreciate.

"And that is an effect in itself." Megan smiled when the JAG officer shook her head in amused exasperation. "Hang on a second." She got up and walked out to her desk while Mac watched curiously. Megan came back to her seat and then leaned over to hand Mac a cell phone, "I believe this is yours."

"Thank you!" Mac smiled happily, "I didn't think I'd get this back. The crime scene unit had it?"

"Yeah, I made them stop playing with it and put it back together again. The bad news is that there were a couple of leftover parts, the good news is that it's a helluva garage door opener." Megan grinned at the look on Mac's face, "Kidding."

"Too bad, I had visions of a lucrative career in B&E," Mac slid the phone into a pocket and then indicated Amita and Larry, "What are they doing?"

"It's a variation of social networking and don't ask me to explain any further - I have no idea." Megan smiled ruefully, "Charlie usually explains what he's doing with some sort of analogy. Just don't eat your lunch while he's doing it - he likes using food as examples. It's a great diet plan if you don't mind unexpectedly starving here and there." She turned a little more, "How's Commander Rabb?"

"Impatient, irritated and worried - and the order changes almost constantly," Mac rolled her eyes slightly. "He doesn't do invalid well."

"What man does?" Megan asked rhetorically. Colby entered the room just then and both women looked over at him.

"Don? I think I've got something." He walked over to a computer and typed in a couple of commands. The picture of a young dark-haired man appeared on the wall screen.

Amita looked up and let out an audible gasp, "That's him. That's the guy who shot Charlie."

"You sure?" Don watched Amita nod and then turned to Colby, "Great work. How did you find him?"

Granger shot a glance at Mac, "I followed the Colonel's lead. He's in the morgue. His name was Jabbar el Naser and he was here on a student visa from Egypt. I've emailed the Egyptian embassy to see what else about him we should know."

Amita frowned, looking at Colby, "He's Egyptian? He looks Pakstani or Indian to me.

Colby raised his hands, "You got me. He's got an Egyptian passport that says he was born there. Maybe his family immigrated."

"What happened?" Don was staring at his agent, his anxiety flaring again as he remembered what Mac had said. What else did she know? Damn, what if these guys decided that Charlie was a loose end?

Colby shrugged, "The fire department's calling it an accident. He was cooking a meal in the oven and the pilot light somehow went out. The apartment filled with gas and a spark must have set it off. There's not a hell of a lot left of him. The explosion just about leveled the apartment building. There were two other fatalities and about half a dozen injuries. If it hadn't been the middle of the day, it could have been a lot worse."

Don scowled, "Make sure the medical examiner goes over the body with a fine tooth comb. I want to know if it really was an accident." He knew in his gut that it wasn't. The question would be, was it provable? These people were staying a step ahead of him and he didn't like it. The guilt he was feeling over Charlie grew a bit more and Don couldn't help a flash of irrational anger as he turned his gaze towards the JAG officer. David had been right, his brother never should have gone on that interview.

Mac leaned back, running the fingers of her good hand through her hair as she looked away from the group. It was one thing to say a person was probably dead, it was quite another to learn that he was and that others had been killed as well. There was no doubt in her mind that this wasn't an accident. There was a ruthlessness here that reminded her uncomfortably of Sadik Fahd. It was... unsettling.

"Mac? Are you okay?" Megan eyed the Marine Colonel with concern. Unlike David, she liked both JAG officers. Given the nature of the case, she'd expected intelligent, competent officers. It had been a bonus to discover that they were pleasant and easy to work with. The Colonel was definitely the anchor of the team and Megan hadn't yet decided if the self-discipline and authority the JAG officer exuded was the result of training or personality. Either way, the woman needed it. Commander Rabb was one of the most dynamic men Reeves had ever met and riding herd on him had to be no small challenge. While both officers obviously didn't have a problem thinking outside the box, Megan gave Rabb the edge in that department. Mac was his steadying influence. Given the way their personalities meshed, Reeves would have been more surprised if they hadn't been an extraordinary team.

She decided the gods must have been smiling on her when Don had asked that she check out their JAG officers. Her curiosity had been killing her and she gotten to satisfy it in a huge way. Zealous had been the only way to describe how she fulfilled her assignment. Shock was the best way to describe her reaction to what she'd found. Megan had needed her security clearance to access a number of their cases. A good deal of it was the stuff of nightmares. It was a wonder neither one of the JAG officers was in some sort of therapy. Actually, it was a wonder neither one was dead.

Mac flashed a quick smile at the agent, "I'm fine." When Megan continued to eye her skeptically, Mac frowned a little, "What?"

Reeves gestured towards Naser's photo, "That remind you of something - or someone?" It was still open as to what they were dealing with. She was leaning toward some sort of terrorism. It seemed to have all the earmarks. Megan didn't want to push the Colonel too much but the woman had had more personal experience with terrorists than the rest of them combined. That, along with her heritage and familiarity with Islamic culture, meant her insight would be valuable. Megan also knew about the trauma that had come with a good deal of that knowledge. An old friend of hers at the CIA had let slip a small tidbit about MacKenzie and the death of a terrorist named Sadik Fahd. Sensing something important, Reeves had run with it, squeezing details out of as many sources as she could. The picture she finally put together was frustratingly incomplete but there was enough to know that it had been a horrific experience. She seriously doubted that the JAG officer would willingly talk about any of it, even if it wasn't classified. Megan was hoping to coax out any useful parallels without delving too deeply into the rest of it.

"Nothing that has to do with this case," Mac's tone grew a little colder as she realized what the agent was referring to. How the hell had Reeves gotten that information? It was classified, dammit; and even if it wasn't, Sadik was a sore subject on any number of levels.

"Are you sure?"

Mac spun around to find Don standing there with a stony-faced David right behind him. "Completely." Her temper started to fray as she shot a irritated look back at Megan. She didn't enjoy being ambushed.

Don folded his arms, his expression hard. Considering the circumstances, he couldn't believe she was stonewalling. Hell, she was part Iranian herself, there was no reason she couldn't give them more information about the Arab mindset, "Then what does it have to do with?" Dammit, they were on the same team. He expected her help, not evasions. Even though he personally liked the JAG officer, that didn't mean she should expect any breaks - not about this. If a terrorist cell was active in LA, he needed to know as much as possible no matter how irrelevant it seemed. Those bastards had gone after Charlie and all bets were off. Reeves was staring intently at him but if she was trying to convey some sort of silent message, he wasn't getting it.

Mac stood up and leveled a glare at Eppes, "That's classified and none of your business." She was uncomfortably aware that everyone's attention was now on her, "Look, I'm sorry about Charlie but I've already told you my views about this. Your brother's shooter screwed up and it looks like he's paid the price. If you want my opinion, I'd say they're not done yet." She reached down for her cover and briefcase, "I'll see you tomorrow." There was no way she was going to stay here any longer, not when she could work on her own with a lot less stress. The last 18 hours and 7 minutes were finally catching up and Don's unexpected adversarial attitude was the very last straw. Hell, the hotel was only six blocks away. She'd walk.

Spinning on her heel, Mac started for the door and found Colby Granger in her path. Without slackening her pace, she snapped, "Stand aside, Mister." Granger's eyes widened and then he neatly pivoted out of the way, nearly coming to attention as she passed. Shooting a look at Don, Colby hurried after the irate Marine officer.

Megan stood up as Mac and then Colby walked out. She turned to Don, tilting her head to the side, "That went well. I'm assuming you intended to make her leave without helping us?"

Don snorted irritably at the mild sarcasm, rubbing the back of his neck. He hadn't meant to be so abrasive but he also had no intention of backing off, "What I intend is to catch these guys before anything else happens. Any idea what she was holding back?"

Megan shrugged, carefully not looking towards Amita or Larry who had stopped their work to watch the scene unfold between Don and the JAG officer, "At a guess, bad memories. You've seen her file." He hadn't seen all of them. She considered her delving into Sadik Fahd as extracurricular, not to mention possibly illegal. Don didn't know about Fahd and she'd been debating with herself about telling him. MacKenzie had probably been right on that point, it didn't seem pertinent to this case. On the other hand, maybe a tactful reminder to Don that he didn't have a corner on traumatic experiences would convince him to give the woman - and the rest of them, a break. He was shouldering the blame about Charlie and that was making him harder on himself and everyone around him.

"The Colonel has personal experience with terrorism?" Larry's quiet voice cut in. "Was it 9-11?"

Megan looked over at the physicist with a quick smile. He was a gentle soul - quirky as hell, compassionate and incredibly intelligent, and she found the combination to be wonderfully sexy. "She's been in the military a long time and is stationed in DC. I wouldn't be surprised if she'd had colleagues at the Pentagon." She held up a hand when it looked like David was going say something, "But that wasn't what I was referring to." Megan glanced around the room again. She'd give the broad strokes and skirt the edges of classified, "A little under a year ago, Mac got involved in a mission to stop a terrorist group from acquiring key technology for a bunch of Stinger missiles. It fell apart and she was captured. They had her for a couple of days before a rescue was mounted. The missiles were finally destroyed but the leader escaped. Six months later, he shows up in DC and finds her. He tried to kill her but Mac wound up killing him instead."

"Wow," Amita breathed softly, sharing a look with Larry.

"Megan, Don," Colby's voice cut into the room, his low tone gaining instant attention. "I think you'd better get out here."

"What's wrong?" Don made it to the doorway first with Megan close behind. Larry and Amita looked at each other and then followed the agents, leaving David to bring up the rear.

"I'm not sure," Colby kept his voice down. Mac was standing about a half-dozen desks away with her back to them, head down, holding a phone to her ear. She was absolutely still. Granger gestured vaguely in her direction, "She was marching out of here when her cell phone went off." He scratched his head, "I thought I heard her say 'ducky' and then she just froze."

"Ducky?" What the hell did that mean? Don scowled and shot a look at Megan who shrugged. She shook her head and put out a hand when he started towards the Colonel. Don stopped, chagrined. Megan was right. After that confrontation they'd just had, he probably wasn't on Mac's list of favorite people at the moment. He nodded and watched as Reeves slowly approached the JAG officer.

Megan cautiously circled around until she was standing in front of the Colonel. She was just in time to hear Mac murmur, "Thank you for letting me know, Ducky. I'll tell Harm." Megan frowned in concern. The woman was white-faced.

Reeves moved in a little closer, ducking her head in an attempt to meet the JAG officer's eyes, "Mac? What's wrong?"

Mac stiffened and looked away, jamming her phone into a uniform pocket while awkwardly wiping at her face with the bandaged hand. "Nothing that has to do with this case," Her voice was low and harsh.

Megan let the hostility roll over her, knowing she was just a handy target. "That's not why I asked," she responded quietly and waited. Silence could be a useful tool.

Deflating slightly, Mac still wouldn't look at the FBI profiler. "Kate Todd, an NCIS agent I've worked with, was shot and killed a few hours ago," she paused and finally glared at Megan, "by a suspected terrorist."

"Oh my god," Megan's eyes widened in surprise, "I'm so sorry." She'd read the files on Michelle Elbert and knew exactly who Caitlin Todd was and what she and Mac had gone through together. That also cleared up the 'ducky' question. Mac must have been talking to Dr. Donald Mallard, known far and wide as 'Ducky'. The NCIS medical examiner enjoyed high regard in the forensic community. It seemed that there were very few senior MEs throughout the country that hadn't heard of him. At least, that's what LA's chief ME had to say when Megan had brought up Mallard's name out of curiosity during Fawwaz's postmortem. The profiler glanced around the office bullpen and made a quick decision. She reached down for Mac's briefcase, "Let's go."

"Where?" Mac's voice was laced with suspicion and anger.

Megan looked over at her as she picked up the case, "Wherever - your hotel, Commander Rabb's room, a bar... wherever you need to go right now. I'll drive."

"No," Mac drew a ragged breath and straightened up. Wiping at her face one last time, she glanced at the group hovering by the conference room. "No," she repeated a little more quietly. "What I need to do is help solve this case."

'So you can leave this damn place.' Megan added silently. She offered the other woman a sympathetic look, "If that's what you want, fine, but if you need a break, I'll run interference." Reeves hesitated a moment and then gestured to her left, "The ladies room is over that way, just around the corner if you want to freshen up a bit." She hefted Mac's briefcase, "I'll take this back to the conference room for you."

Mac nodded once and turned on her heel. Megan watched her go and then returned to the others.

Don was in front, waiting with his arms folded. He tipped his chin in the direction that Mac had gone, "What's going on?"

Megan glanced away for moment, absently jiggling the briefcase. She finally looked back with her head canted slightly to the side, "Remember Congresswoman Elbert?"

Don frowned, "Yeah." Behind him David and Colby exchanged looks. Amita looked surprised after a moment or so, while Larry was obviously clueless.

"Mac was partnered on that case with a NCIS agent - Kate Todd. They became pretty close," Hearing a quiet snort from David, Megan raised an eyebrow, "Surviving a life or death situation together will do that."

Colby shot a look at David too, before nodding in agreement, "You got that right." He and David were going out for a beer later tonight. Even though he was the rookie, it looked like he was going to have to play Dutch Uncle with Sinclair about his attitude towards the military officers.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Don asked, "The case is closed. Elbert was killed."

Megan turned back to him, "And so was Kate Todd - a couple of hours ago. Shot to death by a terrorist NCIS was tracking. Mac just got the word from their medical examiner," she glanced at Colby, "Dr. Donald Mallard, also known as 'Ducky'." Colby's eyebrows rose and he nodded once, grateful to have one small mystery cleared up.

"Aw, man," Don straightened up as he glanced again in the direction of Mac's retreat. He looked back at Megan and indicated the briefcase, "What are you doing with that?"

"I was going to get her out of here, but she's decided to come back and work on the case." Megan glanced over her shoulder, checking for Mac, "I'm thinking she wants to get this over with so she and Commander Rabb can get the hell out of Dodge." She gave Don and then David a look, "You two could help by cutting her a little slack."

Don had the grace to look abashed, "Yeah, okay, we can do that." He turned his head towards the others, "All right, let's get back to it and see if we can't make some sort of sense out of this mess." He eyed Megan, "If you want to check on her - " He left the statement open-ended.

Megan shook her head, "Give her a few more minutes." She followed Don and the others back into the conference room. Colby hung back a little, frowning slightly. After a moment, he moved to his desk and logged on to the internet.

Mac splashed cold water on her face and then leaned on the sink, letting her head hang down. The restroom was unoccupied, giving her some much needed privacy. Kate was dead. Dear God, hearing that had been like a punch to the gut. Mac couldn't decide if she wanted to scream or cry. It was hellishly unfair. What was point of surviving everything Michelle Elbert could throw at them if it was all going to end less than a year later? Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit! Feeling the tears welling up again, Mac angrily splashed more water on her face. She needed to suck it up. This wasn't the time and definitely not the place. Later, after she'd broken the news to Harm and the Burnetts, she could let go a little. They'd all been there with her, knew Kate, they'd understand why this hurt so much. She wouldn't have to go through painful explanations.

Mac stared at herself in the mirror, watching the water drops as they slid down her face. Ducky said Ari had done this but that they couldn't prove it. Gibbs was certain and that was enough for the rest of them. If they could find him, Mossad agent or not, he was a dead man. Fervently, she hoped they found him - and soon. In the meantime - Mac took a deep breath and forcibly shoved the pain and sorrow into a dark, little corner. She turned and pulled out a few paper towels. Wiping her face, she studied her reflection once more and then straightened her shoulders. She had her own mystery to solve and the sooner it was done, the sooner she could get back to Harm's comforting presence.

Friday,

White Memorial Medical Center

Los Angeles, CA

1545 Local

Harm had just dozed off when the phone on the nightstand rang. Trish put down the book she was reading and stood up, waving a hand at her son as his head came up, "Go back to sleep. I'll get it." She gave an exasperated sigh as Harm continued to struggle towards wakefulness. Reaching the phone, she picked up the handset, "Hello? ... Yes, this is Commander Rabb's room. May I ask who's calling?" Trish's brow furrowed slightly, "Just a moment, Mr. Granger." She shot a worried look at Harm, "It's Special Agent Colby Granger from the FBI. He wants to speak with you, says it's important."

All traces of sleepiness vanished at that statement. It was all Harm could do not to snatch the phone from his mother's hand. Taking a second to compose himself, Harm accepted the handset and held it up to his ear, "This is Rabb. What's going on? Is Mac okay?"

Colby glanced around the bullpen and slouched a little lower in his chair. He knew this wasn't any of his business and if he got caught, he could expect to get reamed by both Don and the Colonel. He couldn't help himself though. He'd lost comrades before, guys he'd been through hell with, and he knew the kind of pain MacKenzie would be feeling. Colby didn't like the thought of the JAG Colonel facing this alone. He kept his voice down, "I wanted to give you a heads-up, Commander. Colonel MacKenzie just got a call from a Dr. Mallard at NCIS."

"Ducky called?" Harm frowned. As far as he knew, Mallard had never called Mac before. Usually, it was Kate. His mouth suddenly went dry. Oh no. Harm swallowed heavily, "What did he want?"

Granger took another look around. Man, it almost sounded like the Commander already knew but that wasn't possible, "Kate Todd was killed in the line of duty a couple of hours ago. Shot by a terrorist they were chasing." He paused uncomfortably when Rabb didn't say anything, "Look, I know it's not my place but it seemed like the Colonel took it pretty hard and, well, I thought you should know."

Harm found his voice. Even though he'd been prepared for the worst, hearing that Kate was dead was a shock, "I appreciate it. Where's Mac?"

"Umm," Colby cleared his throat, "in the ladies'. Megan talked to her a little, offered to get her out of here. She said the Colonel decided to stay and keep helping with the case."

"You're kidding," Harm closed his eyes for a second. Even as he'd said it, he'd realized why she'd stayed. It was typical of Mac. It would never occur to her to shirk her responsibilities. She'd bottle all this up, use the anger and turmoil to hone her focus to a razor's edge and then run roughshod over everything in her path until she met her goal. Afterwards, in private, she'd come apart at the seams. He had to make sure he was there.

Colby rubbed at his neck, "I wish I was." He started to say more and then stiffened. Leaning forward, his voice dropped even lower, "I gotta go." Hanging up, Granger stood as casually as he could and made his way back to the conference room. Megan gave him a look which he ignored as he concentrated on what Larry and Amita were doing. The Colonel was on her way in.

Harm slowly reached over to hang up the phone only to have Trish intercept the handset and do it for him. She eyed her son worriedly, "What's wrong?"

He gazed at her for a few moments. There was really no good way to break this, "Mac got a call from Dr. Mallard over at NCIS. Kate Todd is dead. She was shot and killed a couple of hours ago."

Trish slowly sank onto the bed, her face pale, "Oh dear God." She sat for a bit before turning towards him, her eyes bright with unshed tears, "How is Sarah taking it?"

Harm looked grim, "Hard to say but it sounds like she's not letting herself deal with it yet." He scrubbed a hand through his hair impatiently, "I should be there." Making up his mind, he threw the covers off startling Trish.

"What are you doing?"

He refrained from snapping at his mother - barely, "I'm going to see Mac. She shouldn't be alone right now." Clenching his jaw, he sat up and then waited a moment.

"Harmon Rabb, " Trish was clearly torn between worry for him and worry for Mac.

"Mom," Harm cut her off, "Would you see if you can locate my doctor? I need to get out of here and I'd rather do it with his permission." Leaving AMA would annoy Cresswell - and Mac - but if he had to, he would.

Recognizing Rabb mulishness when she saw it, Trish put her hands on her hips in exasperation, "Fine, but promise me you won't try to leave before I can get him in here."

Harm nodded silently. A few minutes could only help. He'd moved faster than he should have and was paying the price. The dizziness that occurred when he sat up hadn't abated and the throbbing in his shoulder was now being outdone by the pounding in his head. He had no intention of sharing any of that with Dr. Vicentes. Mac needed him, that was what was important, and he'd get to her if he had to crawl.

... 1836311903, 2971215073, 4807526976 ...


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Friday,

FBI Headquarters

Los Angeles, CA

1605 Local

Don folded his arms and stared from Larry to Amita, "So you're saying the shootings aren't related?"

"Yes and no. It's a little more complex than that," Larry scrubbed at the side of his face, wishing Charlie was here. His young colleague excelled at making intuitive leaps and then explaining it so that everyone could understand.

Amita joined in the fray, "According to the data that we have, we're dealing with a single group. Despite outward appearances, the shooters are connected but the shootings aren't."

"What?" David glanced at Colby and Megan before again focusing on the two professors.

"So what we should be asking is, 'how many anarchists does it take to change a lightbulb?'" Mac stood in the doorway. Despite the flippancy of her remark, her face was expressionless.

Larry pointed at her, "Precisely."

"What 'precisely'?" Don couldn't keep a bit of irritation out of his voice. It didn't help that Megan had brought her hand up to cover a grin.

Pressing his palms together, Larry took a moment to consider his answer, "Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle: 'The act of observation will affect the observed.' In this case, the effect was anarchy - to a certain extent. All of this starts with the death of Akil Fawwaz. As a direct consequence, Petty Officer McKlellan is arrested for the crime although there's no data to support this theory. However, there are no other incidents stemming from this until," Larry nodded in Mac's direction, "a team from JAG HQ arrives and the investigation intensifies. In the next 48 hours, Commander Rabb is shot in drive-by and Charlie is shot in his classroom. There is nothing random about the targets. These were deliberate, albeit unwise, attempts to influence the investigation. None of which is in keeping with the previous behavior of the group. They're anomalies, which can be explained by anarchy. Naser's death is a correction within the group. I would hypothesize that McKlellan hasn't suffered the same correction simply because they can't reach him." Larry folded his arms.

"And all that means what? These people can't handle pressure, so they panic?" Don leaned back, his exasperation plain. "What the hell are we dealing with? Is this a terrorist group or the gang that couldn't shoot straight?"

"It sounds like a little of both. I'm beginning to think we're dealing with locals despite Asim and Husam's possible involvement." Mac settled into a chair somewhat apart from the agents.

Colby nodded thoughtfully, "Which could mean Husam and Asim are mercenaries rather than jihadists. That could explain the mix we seem to have. Not a bad way to throw everyone off - put a couple of Middle Eastern guys front and center and insert the local boys while the authorities chase a non-existent Muslim group."

"Misdirection," Megan agreed. "But we still don't know what their target is."

"It could be military if we can prove McKlellan's connection to them," Mac looked over at Don, "Is there tangible evidence that he's dealing in the black market?"

"Oh yeah. The computer forensic guys have turned up a Seaman Audrey Lister and Seaman Lisa Cavito. One's a computer specialist in Supply and Requisitions and the other is in the Motor pool." Don hesitated for a split second, "We had NCIS pick them up. Looks like McKlellan's been stringing both of them along with promises of marriage." He grinned slightly, "Neither knew about the other and they were less than pleased to find he'd been lying to them both. They couldn't implicate him fast enough and they're spilling their guts about the missing weapons and munitions. McKlellan's definitely going down for black marketing."

Mac frowned, "Something's wrong about that."

Beside her, Megan nodded, "Yeah, there is." She looked around the room, "Stealing from the government isn't exactly a heinous crime, right? A couple years confinement and dishonorable discharge is pretty much it. So why would McKlellan take a chance of adding a capital crime like murder to it by going after Mac and Harm?"

"Because he already killed Fawwaz. What's one or two more?" David replied. His eyes widened slightly at the sudden glare he got from Megan and he shot a quick look at Mac while hurriedly adding, "No offense."

Colby shook his head thoughtfully, "But you heard Larry, we can't connect him to Fawwaz. Aside from being in the vicinity, there's no evidence. There has to be something more - something worth killing about."

Mac looked away for a moment. She didn't want to bring this up but she'd promised Harm and now that it was confirmed that weapons were being stolen, there was no excuse not to, "Have any of you ever heard of 'Archangel'?" She watched Don and Megan's eyebrows go up, the rest of the group just looked puzzled. She glanced away again, absently massaging her wrist, "Personally, I don't believe there's any connection but Harm's worried that someone might be trying to revive the network. I suppose McKlellan could be part of it." She didn't mention that he was also afraid that someone was targeting her - again.

Megan frowned, "Their goal was to ultimately destabilize the Mideast so the US could move in, right?" She shook her head, "Not that that region needs any help these days, but the political picture has changed so radically I don't think their plan is feasible anymore."

"Unless the goal's been changed. Maybe now it's purely mercenary," David joined in unexpectedly. "McKlellan strikes me as the type that would sell his mother if the price was right." He straightened slightly and pulled out his pager. Glancing at the screen, he excused himself and left the room.

Colby watched him leave and then looked at the others, his expression unconvinced, "Why would he bother? The guy's got more money than God, or will, when he gets his inheritance." He'd never heard of Archangel but so far it hadn't sounded good.

"Power. Revenge, maybe, being in the military wasn't exactly his idea," Don supplied, still watching Mac. She didn't seem to be paying much attention to him as she followed the conversation around the room. There was a tenseness about her that he supposed had to do with Todd's death but he wasn't completely sure. He'd been in New Mexico when Archangel broke. As the SAC, he'd learned more about it back then than what Megan had recently accessed from the JAG records. The aftermath had gone on for months as agencies attempted to clean house. Now he was recalling a blip on the radar screen that had happened six months or so after Jacobs' death - a rogue cell at a Memphis base that had the CO's chief of staff as its leader - and Rabb and MacKenzie had again become involved. Eddy Ramos had been the agent in charge of the case, a classmate of Don's from Quantico. His report had sounded like something out of an old war flick, complete with building to building combat with some nutty militia group.

Don's eyes narrowed a little as he remembered more. A part of the report that he hadn't paid too much attention to at the time, had mentioned several attempts on MacKenzie's life. Apparently, revenge had been the motivating factor because of her part in originally bringing down Archangel and Admiral Jacobs. Don looked over at Mac again, "Colonel?" He waited until she turned towards him, "Does Harm think someone from Archangel is after you again?"

Mac stiffened at the question, "There's no one left. It's been years."

Don stared at her for a long moment. She hadn't answered his question and he was trying to figure out how to pursue it without antagonizing her again when Megan jumped in, "Mac's right. I don't think this has anything to do with Archangel." She glanced over at the Marine, "I do think someone is after you two, but my money's on McKlellan."

Mac nodded almost in relief. She did not need the specter of Jacobs and Archangel hanging over this investigation, "That's my guess but proving it is going to be a bitch."

"But why, and why didn't he go after Don and David, too?" Amita asked, glancing from Megan to Don. She didn't quite look at Mac. She couldn't help feeling intimidated by the older woman. The fact that Charlie obviously liked the Colonel made it that much more uncomfortable. "It's still the FBI's case, isn't it?"

"It will probably wind up being tried by the Navy and I'll bet Daddy's going to have a tough time buying off a military court." Don gave a derisive snort, "For the first time in his life, McKlellan might actually have to answer for his crimes."

"For black marketing only and a good lawyer could probably get the punishment reduced. We still need to find evidence and a motive for the drive-by shooting," Megan interjected. She looked around the room, "We can't get him for Fawwaz's killing but suppose he's been selling more than physical goods? What if he's dealing in classified information? That could explain why he reacted so quickly to Mac and Harm's presence. The stakes would be pretty high."

"High enough - treason can be a capital offense," Mac agreed.

"Yeah, that would do it," Don nodded. "Okay, so let's say McKlellan's selling information to Asim and his buddies. It's not like he's a high-ranking officer. What could a petty officer get their hands on that would be worth something to a terrorist group?"

"You'd be surprised," Mac replied dryly, sharing a knowing look with Colby.

"I'll say." The agent grunted as he nodded in agreement, "Non-coms run the services. They know where everything is and how to get it."

"Then McKlellan must have someone else working that angle or Lister and Cavito would have already spilled it. If he's accessing and copying sensitive information, there's got to be some sort of trail," Don looked at Mac, "Do you think the base commander would let our computer techs run through their system and see if they've been compromised in any way?"

Mac frowned a little, "It's not just the base commander, you're going to have to talk to NCIS, too. That's getting into their turf."

Don noticed the slight hesitation before she said 'NCIS'. A quick glance at Megan told him she'd picked up on it, too. Don cleared his throat, "Not a problem, we can coordinate with them. The more eyes we can put on those files, the sooner we'll find out what's going on." He raised an eyebrow when he heard Mac mutter 'Damn', "What?"

"McKlellan," Mac looked away for a second, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and then gave an exasperated sigh, "His lawyer's been pitching a fit about setting up a face-to-face with us and McKlellan, although I'm not sure why. He does want either formal charges filed or his client returned to duty. I've put it off for today but I'll definitely have to do something about it tomorrow."

"Let him go," Megan jumped in. "The charges were only about Fawwaz," she continued as Mac turned to look at her, "and it's not like he can go anywhere, right?" Megan waited until the JAG officer nodded slowly. "So, we hold off on the black marketing charge, turn him loose and let him think he's outsmarted us."

"And then we watch to see what he does," Don concluded. "And continue to gather evidence," he added hurriedly, seeing the look on Mac's face. He could understand her reluctance. McKlellan was undoubtedly behind Harm's shooting. It would be galling to let the man off scot-free.

"The guy's got an ego the size of Texas, he'll make a mistake and give us an opening," Megan continued to press the argument.

"Alright, okay, you've made your point. I'll have to clear it with General Cresswell first, but once he agrees, I'll let the JAG at Ventura know." Mac held up her hands for a moment before propping an elbow on the armrest and rubbing her temple. The tension headache that had been threatening since she'd heard about Kate had finally made its appearance. It was going to be a doozy. She lifted her head when David appeared in the doorway, looking grimmer than she'd ever seen him.

"Don, we've got a problem."

'Just one?' Don didn't voice that out loud, "What is it?"

"Debbie Atwater missed her appointment. I called her dorm. No one's seen her since last night." David moved further into the room.

"And no one thought to report her missing?" Colby looked incredulous. Mac felt her stomach clench. Fawwaz's girlfriend could be considered a loose end. Chances were that the woman was already dead.

David looked at the younger man, "Apparently she was taking Fawwaz's death pretty hard. She's been blowing off classes and disappearing for hours at a time. The people who were in a position to notice thought this was more of the same."

"Great," Don scrubbed at his jaw. "Okay. David, put out a BOLO and then go over to UCLA and talk to her friends and roommate. See if anybody saw anything that might give us a clue." He refrained from looking at Mac, remembering what she'd said about these people not being finished, "We'll start checking hospitals and the morgue, too." Don looked over at Amita and Larry, "I appreciate your help, guys. Why don't you call it a day? I'll let you know when we've got more information."

Amita nodded, happy for an excuse to leave. There wasn't much more they could do without new data and she was anxious to get back to Charlie. She packed up her laptop and then followed Larry out.

Don waited until they'd left and then turned to look from Colby to Megan, "Why don't you two get together with NCIS, explain what's going on and see if we can get the ball rolling on the base computers."

"You got it," Colby stood up and headed out. Megan followed a little more slowly, pausing to give Don a look that clearly said don't do anything stupid. He raised an eyebrow back at her.

"And what do you suggest I do?" Mac's voice was dangerously soft.

Don resisted the urge to flinch at barely suppressed anger. He knew he had pretty much cut her out of the decision-making but felt he had a compelling reason. His voice, when he replied, was soft as well, "Megan told us about Agent Todd. I think it's time to tell Harm. I'll give you a lift to the hospital."

Mac glanced away, taken by surprise by Don's response. Stubbornly, she blinked back the tears that had made an unwelcome reappearance. Dammit, she would not cry in the headquarters of the FBI. Finally, she managed to look at Eppes, "Okay - thanks."

"No problem, come on," Don stood and offered his hand. He held his breath as she eyed it and then let go a silent sigh of relief when she accepted his assistance. The gesture had also been an apology for his earlier behavior and Don found himself grateful that the JAG officer had apparently forgiven him. He picked up her briefcase and the two quietly exited the building. The ride to the hospital was silent as well. Mac obviously wasn't in the mood for small talk and Don didn't feel much like talking either.

Once they'd reached the hospital parking lot, Don had taken advantage of an 'Official Use Only' parking space so that he could walk her to the hospital entrance. There he'd finally given her back her briefcase and departed, promising to contact her in the morning for an update on any new information. Five minutes later, Mac made her way slowly down the corridor towards Harm's room. Part of her couldn't wait to see Harm and the other part dreaded what she would have to tell him. Reaching his door, Mac paused for a moment to square her shoulders and steel herself.

Taking one more deep breath, Mac pushed open the door and stepped inside. Trish and Frank immediately rose and walked over. Frank relieved her of the briefcase while Trish put a comforting hand on her arm, "Oh Sarah, we're so sorry to hear about Kate." That was all it took. Finally with people she considered family, Mac couldn't keep it inside anymore. As the tears slid down her cheeks, Mac felt Trish pull her into a warm embrace. A moment later, she could feel Frank's hand rubbing small circles on her back. Allowing herself a minute or so of comfort, Mac finally pulled back with a murmured thank you and turned to look at Harm.

She couldn't help frowning slightly when it seemed that he was sound asleep. Trish and Frank exchanged a look and then the older woman cleared her throat, "He's sedated right now."

Mac turned and regarded the Burnetts with surprise, "What? Why?"

"When he heard about Kate, he was determined to get to you, no matter what the consequences," Frank replied, glancing at his wife again. "Dr. Vicentes didn't feel like he had a choice and we agreed. Sedation was the only way to keep Harm from hurting himself."

Mac stared at them while digesting what they'd said. Finally, she shook her head, "Ducky called Harm, too? How did he know where to find him?"

"It wasn't Dr. Mallard, dear, it was Agent Granger," Trish explained. "He was worried about you and thought Harm should know."

Mac's eyes narrowed, "Colby called Harm? What was he thinking?" It was an effort not to swear in front of the Burnetts. What the hell was wrong with Granger? Telling Harm that she was having a problem was like waving a red flag at a bull. He could have easily re-injured himself in his single-minded determination to reach her.

Dismayed by Mac's obvious annoyance, Trish shook her head, "Please don't be angry with Mr. Granger. His intentions were good. He doesn't know Harm that well and didn't realize the consequences. He really was worried about you."

Swallowing her irritation, Mac nodded slowly. Her headache went up another notch and she tried not to wince, "I think I need to sit down."

- - - - - - - -

Undisclosed location

1610 local

Husam looked at the others in his group, "Our timetable has been compromised. Allah made Jabbar a martyr for our cause but it has brought unwanted attention from the government police. We must be ready to act on a moment's notice."

"Forget Allah, what the hell was he doing?" Harvey Mendelson demanded, his thick, heavily muscled arms crossed in front of him. He didn't like cops, unexplained deaths - or Husam, when you got right down to it. If the money hadn't been so good, he'd have left a while ago. He'd been a mercenary for a lot of years and he didn't intend to cut his career - or his life - short by not knowing all the facts.

Husam scowled at the big man. A number of these people had been hand-picked, but not by him and had he any say in the matter, he knew he wouldn't have chosen half of them. When he'd accepted the leadership of the group, he'd brought both Rashid and Naser with him. It was mortifying that Jabbar had been the weak link. "He did nothing. It was a gas leak in his apartment building." None of others knew of Naser's ill-conceived attack on the consultant and he wasn't about to share. There was no point in airing his failures and he was also positive that most of these people would bolt at the least sign of trouble.

"Wouldn't it be better to drop out of sight until the heat's off?" Pablo Esteban spoke up from the other side of Harvey. He was the same size as Mendelson but that's where the similarities ended. Where Harvey looked like he'd been carved from granite, Pablo was pudgy and soft. He didn't need the physique, his expertise was in microbiology.

"We do not have a choice. There will be only a small window of opportunity when the time comes." While Husam approved wholeheartedly of the sheer audacity of the plan, he wasn't as sanguine about the timing. The way he saw it, half of them would get caught or worse. He had no intention of being in that half and the success would be worth the chances taken. He looked around at the group again, "Be ready. I will contact you when it is time to move."

...1836311903, 2971215073, 4807526976...


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Friday,

White Memorial Medical Center

Los Angeles, CA

1755 Local

Harm blinked slowly and stared up at the ceiling. What the hell had happened? Gradually, his mind cleared and he frowned, recalling the argument between himself, Dr. Vicentes and his parents. It had culminated in a failed attempt to stand. Things had become disjointed after that and he now realized that somewhere along the line, Vicentes had drugged him into oblivion.

Hearing a soft noise to his right, he turned his head and saw Mac curled uncomfortably in a nearby chair. Her eyes were closed and even though his vision seemed a bit fuzzy around the edges, Harm could see the strain on her features. His parents weren't anywhere to be seen, which was just as well. He was still annoyed that Vicentes and his Mom had done an end-run around his wishes and stopped him from getting to Mac. "Mac?" That didn't come out well. Harm cleared his throat and tried again, "Mac? Can you hear me?"

Mac stirred slightly and then groaned as she opened an eye, "Harm?" Her headache had dwindled to a dull roar but the rest of her ached from being scrunched in the damned chair.

Harm eyed his Marine anxiously. She'd sounded worse than he did. He patted the side of the bed, "C'mere."

She nodded and began the slow process of extricating herself from the chair. Heaven help her, it was possible she'd never straighten up again. Fortunately, the bed wasn't far away. Gingerly, she sat down on the edge and heaved a small sigh as Harm began to run his hand up and down her back.

"I'm sorry about Kate," Harm felt the hitch in her breathing and slid his hand around to gently tug on her elbow. With a muffled sob, she turned and buried herself on his shoulder. Harm did his best to wrap his good arm around her, cursing the fact that he couldn't get his other arm to move at all. They stayed that way for a while. Harm was more than willing to let Mac's grief run its course. God knew these overt displays didn't happen very often and, in a perverse way, he was happy that she trusted him enough to let him see such raw emotion.

Eventually, she began to calm down and finally pushed herself back up to a sitting position, wiping at her face, "I'm sorry."

Harm raised an eyebrow, "For what?"

Mac flapped a hand in his direction and then wiped at her face again, "That."

His voice was soft, "It's okay to grieve for Kate. She was special. I'm going to miss her, too. I can't imagine what Gibbs... what her team is going through." Harm gave his head a shake, wishing he didn't remember the times when death had been far too close and grateful that he'd never had to face that particular ordeal. Harm frowned when he saw Mac's hand travel up to her forehead, "Are you feeling okay?"

"It's just a headache," Dropping her hand, Mac turned a little more towards him, "Your Mom told me what happened." She looked down at the bed, tracing a pattern on the sheet, "I love your wanting to be there for me but please don't - not while you're still recovering. I would have never forgiven myself if you'd hurt yourself more in the process." Mac finally looked up at him, "Promise me you won't try that again."

"Mac," Harm started and then stopped when he saw the look in her eyes. There was fear there amidst the grief and stress, fear for him. He revised what he'd been about to say, "Only if you promise not to bottle this sort of stuff up and let me help when I can." Harm raised an eyebrow as he stuck out a hand, "Deal?"

Mac looked at him for a moment. They were lawyers after all, it didn't really surprise her that there would be a counter-offer. At least this was one she could live with. She clasped his hand, "Deal."

Harm didn't let go, letting his thumb lightly rub the back of her hand. He could feel the tension in her. It was time for a change of subject, "Any breaks in the case?"

Mac contained the slight shiver he'd evoked, dragging her mind back to his question, "Not really. We can prove McKlellan's dealing in the black market but not much else. The big news is that Colby found Charlie's shooter - in the morgue. His name was Jabbar el Naser and he had an Egyptian passport. Supposedly, there was a gas leak in his apartment and he was killed in the explosion." She was grateful for any reason not to dwell on Kate's death. She knew it would be haunting her dreams tonight. Mac also had no intention of letting Harm know about Don's attitude earlier. She'd recognized it for what it was, having seen Harm react in a similar manner when she'd been hurt. Don and Harm finally seemed to have established a working relationship and she wasn't about to jeopardize it because the agent was feeling guilty about his brother.

Harm whistled softly, "That was way too convenient. These people aren't messing around."

"They are and they aren't," Mac replied slowly as she thought it over. "It's almost like they're trying to get caught and then they turn around and cover their tracks pretty ruthlessly. Honestly, it's like dealing with Jekyll and Hyde."

"Two different agendas," Harm agreed. "McKlellan and our Muslims?"

"What's happened hasn't helped either party so far. What if it's someone else altogether? Someone who's against both?" Mac shifted a little, tucking one leg under the other.

"But how would a third party know?" Harm frowned. "I can possibly see being on to McKlellan but the terrorists, too? It doesn't seem very plausible."

"You're probably right," Mac sighed, "I told Don that I thought this might be a domestic group with a couple of Islamic types for window-dressing - which makes our friends Rashid and Husam mercenaries, not religious zealots." She paused for a moment, "I suppose that would explain the Farsi and the fact that while Charlie's shooter looked Indian, he had an Egyptian passport."

Harm considered that for a moment and then frowned, "Makes them that much more unpredictable, doesn't it? No religious agenda so there's no telling what their goal might be. Any idea who's financing them?"

Mac shook her head as she shrugged, "Who knows? Someone with a lot of money and a grudge."

Harm rolled his eyes. "That narrows it down. All we have to do is eliminate every organization and/or millionaire/billionaire on the planet until we find whoever doesn't like - what? Our government? The military? People who sing off-key in the shower?" This case just kept getting more complicated.

Mac couldn't help smiling, "My money's on the shower singers. Flat notes always inspire me to violence." She was silent for a couple of seconds and then resumed her previous train of thought, "Could it truly be just a coincidence that we ran across a terrorist group and a black market operation with one killing? It doesn't look like McKlellan had anything to do with the Compton murder and I don't think whoever actually killed Fawwaz planned on having it discovered so soon. Then there's that idiotic shooting of Charlie. Dr. Fleinhart said it was anarchy within the group in response to the investigation." She slowly flexed the hand with the injured wrist, "Our so-called terrorists seem to be working at cross-purposes."

"Maybe there's a power struggle going on." Harm shrugged his shoulder at the look Mac gave him, "Or not. You know, even if he wasn't part of it, the murder did bring McKlellan unwanted attention. Without it, we wouldn't have discovered that he's been up to at Ventura."

"Yeah, there's that. So whoever left the tip got a twofer - McKlellan and our terrorists. Could that have been the real reason for trying to frame McKlellan? To alert us to his other activities?" Mac adjusted her good hand so she could thread her fingers through his.

Harm snorted, "Not unless they could be in two places at once - at the site of the killing and following McKlellan. We're probably reading too much into this. I think that tip was just about the murder and McKlellan was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Maybe," Not quite convinced, Mac looked down at their hands, "Megan thinks he might be selling classified information as well. I agree. It would explain this attack on you."

Harm's eyebrows rose, "Treason? Surely he couldn't be that stupid, his grandfather's a Senator."

"But he could be that greedy. From what I've read on the McKlellan family, it's all about the money. Megan and Colby are meeting with NCIS to coordinate going through Ventura's computer system and see if anything has been compromised." Mac kept her voice steady with an effort. Dammit, why Kate?

Harm gave her hand a comforting squeeze, "What are you going to do?" When she didn't answer right away, he couldn't help frowning, "Mac? What's going on?"

"McKlellan's lawyer has been screaming. He wants his client charged or let go." She hesitated a second, "I'm having Cmdr. Barsantos withdraw the charges." Mac hurried to explain, "They only covered the Fawwaz murder and I don't want to settle for the black market charges only. I know he was probably behind your shooting but we can't prove it yet. Megan and Don are hoping he'll do something stupid once he believes he's gotten away with it."

"Mac, it's okay. I understand," Harm let go of her hand to rub her arm. Knowing Mac as he did, letting McKlellan go was going to eat at her.

Mac took a breath. Harm wasn't going to like what she said next, "I'm going to talk to him before we officially turn him loose."

"What?" That came out more forcefully than he'd wanted and Harm backpedaled quickly. The last thing he wanted to do was upset her even more. "I mean, do you think that's such a good idea? All it's going to do is frustrate you. You heard how he was with Don when he was first arrested. You know he'll be obnoxious as hell when he thinks we can't touch him."

"I'm aware of that," Mac countered, the expression on her face hardening.

"Mac," Harm could feel a knot forming in the pit of his stomach, "what are you planning?"

"I'm just going to talk to him. I'm not going to get angry so there's nothing to worry about. Besides, his lawyer will be there - and the guards." Mac kept her voice matter-of-fact. Harm would go absolutely ballistic if he knew what she planned to say. It was obvious he thought she was going to take the opportunity to ream the Petty Officer a new one.

"Is Don going with you? He's been waiting for us to talk to McKlellan again." He was grasping at straws, doing his best to throw up any roadblocks that he could. Dammit, she'd had this same attitude the night she went after Fahd and look what that had done to her. Whatever the hell she was planning couldn't be good.

Mac stiffened. Despite the relatively civil terms they'd parted on, she was leery of being in Don's presence again. On the other hand, if she didn't take Don or at least one member of his team along, Harm would know something was up, "I think Don's planning on working the Rashid and Husam angle but Megan and Colby will probably be on base. I could see if Megan would like to tag along." With a little luck, both agents would be busy but whether one was there or not, she still planned to have her say.

"Great," Harm smiled in relief. Megan would be a steadying influence. Normally, he didn't worry about Mac going off half-cocked but between his and Charlie's shooting and now the news about Kate, he knew she was reeling. Hell, he was feeling the same way. As frustrating as it was to be stuck in the hospital, at least he had some sort of back-up with their FBI colleagues. A yawn caught him unexpectedly.

Mac gave him a look and then stood up, leaning in for a quick kiss, "You need to rest. I'll stop by and see you in the morning before I head out to Ventura."

Harm grasped her hand, "You don't have to go."

She gave him a weary smile, "Yeah, I do. You need rest and so do I. Don't worry, I'll be okay, really."

He eyed her carefully. She looked... well, he wouldn't go so far as to say exhausted, but somewhat beyond tired and suddenly he felt guilty about trying to keep her with him. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Mac nodded, giving his hand one more squeeze before letting go. "Good night, Harm." She walked to the door, turning back one last time to wave and then headed out.

Harm waited a minute or so after the door closed and then turned to the phone. He paused for a moment, what the hell was Don's number again? He couldn't remember. Well, that was what operators were for. Gritting his teeth, Harm stretched his arm out, snagged the handset and punched zero. A few minutes later, he was patiently explaining to yet another person that he needed to speak with SA Don Eppes or one of his team members. Being put on hold (again), Harm let his head sink back into the pillows. This was almost as bad as trying to get hold of Clayton Webb and just as annoying.

"Commander Rabb?" Megan Reeves' voice finally came over the line.

Saturday,

Command Judge Advocate

Building 1, NAS Point Mugu

Ventura, CA

0930 Local

Megan glanced over at the Colonel one more time while they waited for McKlellan and his lawyer to show. She seemed preoccupied. It was understandable, considering the last couple of days. Of course, it could also have something to do with whatever she wanted to talk about with McKlellan. Megan had been surprised to receive a call from Commander Rabb last night and even more surprised at what he had to say. Fortunately, Granger was more than fine with this little side trip. Megan frowned thoughtfully. She'd noticed an unusual bit of tension between Colby and David this morning. Knowing that Colby's gung-ho attitude sometimes got on Sinclair's nerves, she hadn't been too concerned. They were still ironing out their relationship. Now she was considering the possibility that the two might have clashed over David's uncharacteristic bias against the JAG officers. The door opening cut off her musings and Megan straightened up slightly. Unless she was very much mistaken, things were about to get interesting.

Mac sat quietly, her hands folded in front of her and resting on the table. McKlellan was already three minutes and forty-five seconds late. She kept her attention on her hands, idly staring at her Marine Corps ring while she considered exactly how she wanted to pursue the coming conversation. Megan Reeves had been stealing glances at her almost constantly since she'd arrived. Mac knew she was bordering on rudeness in ignoring the agent after their initial greeting but it was nearly impossible to spare the attention. As she'd feared, last night had been far from restful. Feeling wrung out wasn't going to make this confrontation with the Petty Officer any easier. She would be walking a fine line, not unlike what she'd done with Sadik. The sound of the door opening brought her head up. Taking a quick breath, she slid into the familiar armor of a Marine officer. The games were about to begin.

McKlellan sauntered in behind his attorney, Alby Delaporte, smugness radiating in nearly visible waves. Things were definitely looking up. Delaporte had been against having this meeting now that the charges had been dropped and he was no longer confined to quarters. The little weasel hadn't seen the point once they'd won but McKlellan had insisted. Not only did he want the opportunity to gloat but he was curious about the results of the shooting. Delaporte had only mentioned MacKenzie's name, not Rabb's. He needed to see for himself.

It was obvious now that he'd been worried over nothing. Navy standards must be considerably lower than in the real world if Rabb and MacKenzie were the best they had to offer. He'd beaten them at every turn and done it without expending nearly as much effort or money as he'd thought he'd need. He knew the murder charges weren't going to stick simply because he'd had no part in the death of some worthless towelhead. It was the fact that they couldn't connect him to the dead gangbangers or the driveby that had increased his contempt. Now his lawyer was going to put the icing on the cake by demanding an apology from the JAG officers. McKlellan was more than prepared to indulge in some payback - watching senior officers eat crow would be a good start.

Megan watched as Mac rose gracefully from her seat as McKlellan and his mouthpiece entered the room. It was obvious that the Petty Officer was enjoying himself. She also noted that while Delaporte had frowned at finding only one JAG officer, McKlellan didn't seem surprised. Megan nearly came out of her own chair when Mac suddenly belted out, "Snap to, Mr. McKlellan!" Glaring at the now wide-eyed Petty Officer, Mac's voice came out in a menacing growl that grew steadily in volume, "Regulations still apply, Mister, and you will show respect when reporting to a superior officer. Are we clear?"

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" McKlellan couldn't help his reaction as he stiffened to attention. His boot camp drill instructors had pounded that response into him until it was nearly automatic.

Mac gazed at him for a long moment and then waved a hand, "As you were." She dropped back into her chair without bothering to watch McKlellan's reaction. Folding her hands again, she looked at Delaporte, "As you know, JAG is withdrawing the charges against your client."

"That's correct," The little man eyed her warily. He'd never seen Bradley jump like that before. Well, two could play offense, "And I don't like being jerked around. You wouldn't meet with us before but now that the charges are dropped, you want to see us? I could make a case for harassment. We weren't obligated to come, you know," he added, acting a bit affronted on behalf of his client. He'd found the son to be every bit as obnoxious as the father but he was collecting an exorbitant amount of money so he'd do what he could for the annoying heir apparent.

Mac leaned back and offered up a slight smile, "I'm aware of that but there are few things I believe would be beneficial for the Petty Officer to know." She kept most of her attention on the attorney, sparing just enough to acknowledge that the Petty Officer had her permission to sit before again ignoring McKlellan in favor of Delaporte. Megan noted the deepening frown on the Petty Officer as he carefully sat down. She had no doubt that Mac's display of authority had been calculated to unsettle the arrogant young man.

"Like what?" McKlellan demanded. "Ma'am," he tacked on hurriedly when Mac turned her head slightly towards him.

"We haven't found any evidence that would implicate your client in the murder of Akil Fawwaz," Mac directed her reply to Delaporte.

"We're here for this? So you can state what we've been saying all along?" Delaporte raised an eyebrow. "You're deliberately wasting our time and don't think I won't be filing a complaint with your superiors." It was time to take control of this meeting although he'd gotten a bit of enjoyment from watching Bradley being forced to toe the line. It was more than he could do with the bastard.

Mac glanced at McKlellan for just a moment, "You're free to go." She waited while the Petty Officer shot a triumphant look at his lawyer and started to rise, "But if I were you, I wouldn't leave this base."

Delaporte scowled, "Now you're threatening my client?"

Mac gave him a half-smile, "Not me. His clients, on the other hand, might have other ideas."

Delaporte glanced at McKlellan before frowning again at Mac. What the hell had Bradley done now? "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Mr. McKlellan does," Mac waved a hand as she finally focused on the Petty Officer, "Don't you?" When he didn't reply, she looked back at his attorney, "Didn't he tell you about the black market operation he's running?"

"If that were true, you'd be bringing up charges, not letting him go," Delaporte retorted, picking up his briefcase. He looked at McKlellan, "We're done here."

"In more ways than one," Mac stood up, her manner now intense as she glared at McKlellan. "You might not realize it, Petty Officer, but you're between a rock and a very hard place. I know you arranged the driveby shooting that wounded my partner and that you've been selling classified information as well. That's treason and I don't think anyone in your family will be happy having that associated with their name. The Diablos Sangre aren't particularly happy with you either. When they shot up half a city block going after me and Commander Rabb, they were on J Street Trinity turf. They topped that off by hitting a member of the JST. Now they've got a war on their hands and you caused it." Her expression grew harder, "I don't like being shot at either. Rest assured, I will be pursuing this investigation until I have the evidence I need to convict you." She gave McKlellan a predatory smile, "That's assuming you're around to go to trial. You should have thought twice before selling secrets. In the last few days, the people you've been dealing with have shown a disturbing tendency of killing to cover their tracks. Three people are dead so far. I imagine, by now, you're pretty high on their list. It's a hell of a choice you've got - death or Leavenworth. I hope you know how to sleep with one eye open." There was a certain satisfaction in watching McKlellan's face blanche.

She turned to Megan while Delaporte was still spluttering, "Agent Reeves, I'm done. Shall we go?" Mac gathered up her briefcase and cover as the FBI agent stood up. Without any further acknowledgement of either man, the two women left the room. Mac's posture didn't relax until they were out of the building and heading for the parking lot. She glanced over at the agent, "Go ahead and say it."

Megan shook her head, "What do you want me to say? You obviously knew what you were doing. Either McKlellan's going to roll over and confess everything in hopes of us getting them before they get him or he's going to make a second attempt to kill you. My guess? He's angry and panicked and you're the easier target."

Mac stopped walking so she could face the agent, "That's your opinion."

Megan rolled her eyes, "My opinion on a subject that I deal with for a living; and in my professional capacity, let me ask this: Are you nuts? You're not going to catch McKlellan red-handed with a gun in his hand. He's rich. He'll hire someone and you won't see it coming."

"I don't think so," Mac started forward again. "He's a gutless wonder and in over his head. If he'd had any balls and even half a clue of what he was doing, he would have hung tight in the first place. He didn't kill Fawwaz even if someone did try to point the finger at him. The evidence would have exonerated him. His avenue with the gangs is gone and I'll lay odds he's terrified of Husam and Rashid. After he gets over being mad, McKlellan's going to want some sort of deal."

"And if you're wrong, there's a big, red bullseye on your back," Megan looked exasperated and clearly not convinced. She glanced away for just a moment and then took a deep breath, "You deliberately provoked him. Does this have anything to do with Kate?" She braced as Mac spun to face her, anger plain on the JAG officer's face.

Mac glared at Megan silently for a long moment before her expression turned icy, "That was uncalled for." She turned and marched determinedly towards her car, leaving the FBI agent standing there. Once inside, she rested her hands on the wheel and exhaled slowly. Had Kate's death influenced her judgment? After a few seconds, Mac shook her head slightly. No, she'd done what she'd needed to do to kick this case off dead-center. McKlellan would save his own life, cut his losses and give them needed information in exchange for some sort of protection. Turning on the ignition, Mac ignored a niggling, little sense of unease.

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	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Saturday,

Eppes residence

Pasadena, CA

11:45 Local

Charlie smiled at Amita as she set the tray containing their lunches down on the coffee table, "Thank you." He'd offered to get them and been rebuffed.

Amita lowered herself cautiously onto the sofa, taking care not jostle Charlie. He kept insisting he was fine but she didn't want to take any chances. She looked at the tray. Allan had certainly outdone himself in the food department and then given some lame excuse to get out of the house so she and Charlie could have some alone time. She wasn't sure how she felt about it. Certainly she was attracted to Charlie but could she compete with the numbers? There was her own career to consider as well. The two of them were still dancing around the issues.

"Amita? Are you okay?" Charlie's voice cut into her thoughts.

She gave him a quick smile and indicated the tray, "Your dad left enough here to feed an army."

Charlie smiled back, shrugging his shoulders, "What can I say? Dad's a big believer in comfort food." His expression turned slightly anxious as he regarded her again, "Are you sure you're okay? You've been kind of quiet."

Amita sighed a little. Charlie wasn't going to let this go and honestly, she wasn't sure what she was feeling. She turned to look at him, clasping her hands together, "I know and I'm sorry. It's just... yesterday was... I mean... " She stared at her hands as she tried to fruitlessly to explain. Suddenly, Charlie's arms were around her and she found herself turning into his embrace. "I'm scared," her voice was muffled by his shirt.

Charlie tightened his grip slightly, ignoring the dull ache in his side, "Me, too."

They stayed that way for a while, until Amita pulled away, wiping at her face. She waved a hand at the food, carefully not looking at Charlie, "We should probably eat. Alan would be upset if this went to waste."

"Okay," Charlie agreed reluctantly. He accepted the plate Amita handed to him and leaned carefully back on the couch. They ate in silence for a few minutes before he cleared his throat, "You know I meant what I said yesterday at the hospital. It wasn't just the drugs." When she gave him a confused look, he glanced down, "I do think you're beautiful... and smart... and brave... "

"Charlie," Amita cut him off as she blushed, not knowing quite what to say. An awkward silence settled in with both of them picking at the remains of their lunch. Finally, Amita shook her head and gave Charlie a tentative smile, "We're quite a pair, aren't we?"

Charlie grinned back, relieved she'd broken the silence, "I think we're an extraordinary pair."

"You do, do you?" Her smile a little stronger, Amita leaned back so she could nestle against his side.

Charlie happily draped an arm across her shoulders, "Of course we are. What other couple do you know that can do what we do?"

Amita raised an amused eyebrow and settled in a little more. This time the quiet was comforting. Eventually, Charlie broke the silence. He was starting to drift off and that probably wouldn't score him any romantic points, "Larry called just before you came over."

"He did?" Amita turned her head to look at him, "Is he looking for those equations?"

"Nooo," Charlie drew the word out slowly, "He was telling me what happened in Don's office today. Sounds like I missed quite a bit."

Amita shifted uncomfortably, "You did. Don was pretty... intense. I just wish we could have helped more."

Charlie glanced away. He knew exactly where Don's attitude had come from. Next time he saw Mac, he'd have to apologize to her. He focused on the math, "So the social networking didn't help clear things up?"

Amita shook her head, "Not conclusively, I think if we had a little more data we could have nailed it down."

Charlie frowned thoughtfully, "I don't suppose you have the equations with you - ?" He realized how that had just sounded and started to backtrack, "I'm not questioning your work, I was just thinking that a fresh perspective... "

"It's okay, Charlie. I know what you meant," Amita regarded him with resigned affection. Dangle any sort of a puzzle in front of Charlie and you could count on him to snap it up. It looked like the romantic part of the day had just been pre-empted for the time being. She extracted herself from his side, smiling slightly at his murmured protest and went to retrieve her laptop. Shifting the lunch tray out of the way, she put the computer down and opened it up. Turning towards Charlie, she offered him a hand as he attempted to lean forward.

Charlie did his best not to grimace as he changed position, flashing Amita a grateful smile when she extended a helping hand. A minute or so later, all discomfort faded into the background as he stared at the figures on the screen. At first glance, everything appeared as Amita had said. In order to clarify what the formula was showing them, they simply needed more data. It was on his second pass through that he frowned and gave a quiet 'hmph'.

Amita looked from the screen to Charlie and back again, "What is it?"

He pointed at a section, "This, there's something odd here." He glanced over at Amita, "May I?" She nodded wordlessly and he turned back to the screen and quickly typed out another equation. Staring at it for a second, he typed some more and waited while the application digested the latest input. When it finished, both his eyebrows rose. Amita, leaning into his side, exhaled softly and looked over at him, "We've got another player."

Charlie stared at the screen, "Not just a player. I think we've found the leader."

Saturday,

Executive Towers

Los Angeles, CA

12:30 local

Mac leaned back and rubbed her eyes. Harm wasn't expecting her until later in the afternoon so she'd decided to take advantage of the quiet time by holing up in her hotel room and going over the case again. Something wasn't sitting right with everything they'd learned so far but, for the life of her, she wasn't quite sure what it was. Sighing, Mac stood up and walked to the window. Folding her arms, she looked out over the city. It stretched out in all directions as far as she could see although the edges were obscured by the haze of smog. Remembering what Anabel Simpson had said about not wishing to live somewhere where the air was thick enough to see, Mac glanced down as she shook her head. Washington, DC wasn't exactly a picnic but it was better than this. How could people live in that, day in and day out?

Looking back out, Mac stiffened in shock, her eyes widening. Something was wrong. The city, with all its bustle, was gone. Instead, abandoned buildings were slowly being overcome by nature. What the hell? Shaking her head, Mac blinked furiously a couple of times. The image remained.

"It's not real." Startled, Mac spun around and then took an involuntary step backwards. Kate Todd was standing near the desk with a slight smile. She looked the way Mac remembered her except for the small, neat bullet hole in her forehead. Kate gestured towards the window again, "It's not real."

Her heart thumping wildly, Mac stared at her, "You're dead."

Kate crossed her arms, "Well, duh, MacKenzie. Tell me something I don't know."

Mac opened and closed her mouth soundlessly. Glancing away, she scrubbed at her forehead. What was going on?

"You're not losing your mind, if that's any help," Kate offered sympathetically.

"Says the dead person - oh god," Mac dropped gracelessly onto the bed and buried her face in her hands.

"Hey, come on, it's okay. I am dead after all." Kate's voice sounded like it was moving closer. Mac kept her hands over her face. This was scaring the living daylights out of her. There had been times in her life when she knew others feared for her sanity, hell - she'd questioned it a time or two herself, but never like this. For the first time, she was truly terrified that she'd gone over the edge.

"Pull yourself together, Colonel, it's not like this will be a long conversation," Kate's voice was taking on that stern note that Mac knew meant she was losing her temper.

"Sarah, I know this is disconcerting but it's your gift. Please listen."

Mac's head shot up as her heart gave a startling thump, "Avis?!"

Standing next to Kate, her hands folded and in the same gray dress she'd worn at their first meeting, Avis Payne was smiling warmly, "Hello, Sarah."

Kate glanced at her companion and then returned her focus to Mac. Folding her arms, Kate raised an eyebrow, "Now that we have your attention, do you think you can listen?"

Mac nodded numbly, looking from one to the other.

"Good," Kate waved a hand towards the window, "What you're seeing is the culmination of someone else's dreams."

Mac looked confused as she nodded, "Islamic extremists. The destruction of the United States has always been their goal. That's a given. I don't understand why you're here about something so obvious."

Kate rolled her eyes and glanced at Avis. The young woman took a step forward, shaking her head, "I don't know about the Arabs but this vision has its roots in the depths of America's history. See beyond the obvious and look within. You're uniquely qualified."

"She's right," Kate nodded, "There's more than one way to look at this." She glanced over her shoulder and then looked at Avis, "We have to go."

Mac put out a hand, "No, wait. I don't understand." After getting over the shock of seeing both Kate and Avis, she found she didn't want them to leave. She could feel the tears pricking her eyes again, "I miss you."

Avis smiled sympathetically even as she and Kate began to waver around the edges, "I know. Just remember, even if you can't see me, I'm never far away." She glanced around the room, "You live in fascinating times."

"I'll be around, too," Kate nodded. "Take care of yourself, Mac, and you can consider that an order. I don't want to see you on this side for a good long while."

"Amen," Avis added firmly. With that the two faded completely from sight.

Mac's head jerked up from the desk as she looked wildly around the room. Impatiently wiping at the tears on her cheeks, Mac stood up and moved quickly to the window. Los Angeles appeared as it always had, complete to the haze of smog. Sinking onto the bed, Mac rubbed the side of her face. She must have dozed off. It was a dream, unnerving to say the least, but still a dream.

Saturday,

FBI Headquarters

Los Angeles, CA

13:45 Local

Don looked up as Megan and Colby walked into the office. He leaned back in his chair, grateful for the break, "How'd it go with NCIS?"

Colby shrugged, "Okay I guess, their geeks are talking to our geeks. It sounds like they know what they're doing. I can't follow it." He rubbed the back of his neck, "They think they should have something pinned down in the next couple of hours."

"Good," Don looked over at Megan, "How'd that meeting go between Mac and McKlellan?"

Megan tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she leaned against a desk, "It was - interesting."

Don straightened slightly, "How so?" He wasn't getting a good feeling about this. Megan had passed along Rabb's concerns before heading to Ventura this morning.

Megan glanced away, "She definitely rattled his cage."

"Megan," Don frowned, was she really going to make him drag it out of her syllable by syllable? He glanced over to see Colby had his arms folded while he looked at the ground. It was obvious he knew what Megan wasn't saying.

Reeves sighed a little, "Basically, Mac told him that she knew what he was doing, that the terrorists were cleaning house and if they didn't get him, she most definitely would."

Don straightened up more, "Are you kidding me?"

"Nope," Megan folded her arms, "She's intent on making him move one way or another. Figures he'll try to deal with us in exchange for protection."

"If he doesn't try to kill her instead. Dammit, Megan, couldn't you have stopped her?" Don ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

Megan leveled a glare at him, "And how do you suggest I might have done that? Aside from the fact that I heard what she had to say at the same time McKlellan did, she's a Lieutenant Colonel in the US Marine Corps. You think they just handed that to her because oak leaves are a great fashion accessory?"

Colby snorted in agreement and Don shot him a sour look before turning back to Megan, "You're right, sorry." He drummed his fingers on the desk for a few seconds, "So what's your read on the situation? Is she right? Will McKlellan make a deal with us?"

Megan shrugged, lifting her hands, "I'm not sure. I'd say it's a 50-50 shot. Mac doesn't think he has the gonads to try something on his own and she's pretty sure he won't be able to turn to any street gangs this time. That leaves dealing with us in hopes of leniency or going to his terrorist connection and hoping the man doesn't kill him first." Reeves sighed a little, "I'm just afraid she's underestimated how far McKlellan might go if he's desperate enough."

Don frowned, "Do I need to assign protection for her?" He tried not to think about how Merrick would react to the need for extra manpower. The SAC hadn't been in a good mood since the JAG officers arrived.

"Only if you plan on assigning protection for her protection," Megan replied dryly. "I can tell you right now that's not gonna fly."

"Yeah," Don rubbed the back of his neck. He hadn't really thought Mac would allow him to do something like that. He squinted at Colby and then Megan, "How would either one of you feel about partnering with the Colonel until Commander Rabb's back on his feet?"

The two agents glanced at each other and shrugged, Colby looked back at Don, "I haven't got any problem with that."

"Me neither," Megan added. She smiled at Colby, "How do you want to choose? Flip a coin or Rock, Paper, Scissors?"

Granger arched an eyebrow, his expression perfectly serious, "I've always been an Odds-Evens man, myself."

Smiling, Don raised his hands as he turned back to his computer, "You two figure it out and let me know. I'll fix it with Harm and Mac." He knew he would need Harm's assistance to convince Mac that a temporary partner wasn't really a babysitting detail.

Saturday,

Liwanu Enterprises

Los Angeles, CA

1300 local

"Mr. Bander? I have Mr. McKlellan on line two." Margery had the weekend off and Thelma Blue was filling in.

"Thank you, Ms. Blue," Bear Bander leaned back in his chair as he picked up the phone, "Scott? It's Carson Bander. How are you?"

"Fine, Carson, fine, and how are you?" Scott McKlellan frowned slightly as he answered. What the hell did this wily bastard want? They didn't have a social history together.

"Can't complain," Bander cleared his throat, "I just wanted you to know that you've got my support in this difficult time. I'm sure none of the charges are true."

McKlellan blinked and stared at the phone for a moment, "Well, I appreciate that but I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

"Oh." Bander waited a couple of seconds, a slow smile working across his face. He was going to enjoy every minute of this conversation. "I'm sorry, I thought you knew already."

McKlellan's voice grew harder, "Knew what already?" Dammit, this had to be about Bradley. What the hell had his nitwitted son done now? The last time he'd talked to Delaporte, that stupid murder charge had been dropped.

"About his selling information to some terrorist group," Bander listened to the dead silence of the other end. This was even better than he could have imagined. He was fairly certain that there weren't a whole lot of parental feelings involved. Scott McKlellan was probably more worried about being tarred with the same brush. The man was a worthless, greedy snake. He, and his fathers before him, had a history of cheating and swindling any and all who crossed their paths. Those they couldn't cheat, wound up conveniently dead. The McKlellans had built their oil enterprise and their fortune on the bones of others and Bander intended to make them pay.

Originally, this facet hadn't been part of his overall plan but he knew how to take advantage of an opportunity. He'd decided it was a sign that the spirits were with him when he discovered his military pipeline started with a Petty Officer McKlellan. Once he'd confirmed that this was indeed Scott McKlellan's son, it'd hadn't taken long to formulate a plan that would benefit his goals and exact a measure of revenge as well. As Bander had expected, it also hadn't taken his man Husam very long to convince McKlellan that the real money was in information. The Petty Officer had leapt at the chance with apparently little regard for the consequences.

"That's a goddamn lie!" Stephen McKlellan exploded in outrage. "Where the hell did you hear that?!"

"Now Stephen, you know I don't reveal sources," Bander kept his voice quiet and calm. "But if you say it's not true then I will be happy to contradict what's being said."

"It's those military shysters my father-in-law sicced on Bradley, isn't it? Dammit, I'll have their heads for this! I told that old fool to leave well enough alone. My son might be an idiot but he isn't stupid enough to kill someone. Delaporte was handling it." Thoroughly incensed, McKlellan spun around in his chair to stare out at the panoramic view of Dallas. Goddammit, what the hell was going on out there? "Look Carson, I appreciate your concern but I've got to go." Jabbing at the buttons on the phone, McKlellan ended Bander's call. Consulting his directory, he punched in Alby Delaporte's private number.

- - - -

Bander smiled slightly as he returned the handset to its cradle. That anthill was sufficiently disturbed. On Monday, he would disturb another by nudging a few key legislators in the State government. The longer he could promote turmoil and partisanship over the budget, the better. California was heading into crisis and Bander would continue to manipulate the situation as best he could. The rolling blackouts were contributing to the general unease of the public as well as adding to his coffers. He snorted in disdain. Any idiot could have done the math and figured that demand would soon outstrip supply. Bander had positioned one of his companies to take up the slack and make a substantial profit besides. When reporters started swarming around the story, he'd been more than happy to grant interviews and point a finger at the inept state government and incompetently run utilities.

He had no delusions about any sort of substantial civil unrest arising from any of this. The society that had invaded his people's country was indolent, puling dogs. Minor disturbances were all that they were capable of and that was what he would have to exploit. It was time to stir the pot with a few well-placed incidents. He would have some help. Bander knew he could count on a frenzied attempt by the media to whip the citizenry into some sort of outrage although it wouldn't get beyond a riot or two in the poorer sections of the city. However, it would be enough to suit his purposes. It was easier to target the shepherds when the sheep were milling.

Speaking of which, Bander frowned thoughtfully. The JAG officers from DC, as well as the assigned FBI team would have to watched a little more carefully in the coming days. Margery's research on Rabb, MacKenzie and the Eppes brothers had been disturbing on a number of levels. These people were not only extraordinarily good at what they did, but they seemed to have the gods' own luck in surviving dangerous situations. He'd already had inadvertent proof of that. Bander grimaced as he shook his head. Violence was to be expected as the plan went forward but incompetency wasn't. When it came time to rid himself of these adversaries, there could be no mistakes.

... 63245986, 102334155, 165580141 ...


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Saturday,

595 Puller Lane,

NBVC

Ventura, CA

1420 Local

Bradley turned his head slightly when the phone rang and then heaved a sigh. He'd been parked on the couch for over an hour trying to figure out what the hell to do. That goddamn arrogant bitch! Who did she think she was dealing with? ...Hell, what if she was right? Was Palin after him? Dammit, he should have stuck with the physical stuff. This was all that towelhead's fault! And JAG - what the hell had they been doing sniffing around his personal life? It should have stopped as soon as they figured out he hadn't killed that guy at the Compton. They'd violated his rights! Maybe he could get Delaporte to file a lawsuit for invasion of privacy... The phone rang again interrupting his internal tirade and he finally picked it up, taking a moment to compose himself, "McKlellan."

"What the hell are you doing?!" The strident voice of Scott McKlellan came ringing through the line.

Bradley winced as he held the phone away from his ear for a moment and then replaced it, "Hello, sir."

"Don't you 'hello sir' me, goddammit! Have you lost what little bit of brains you had?"

Taking a deep breath, Bradley did his best to smother any trace of annoyance. "I don't know what you're talking about, sir."

"Don't lie to me, Bradley. Apparently everyone and their uncle knows that you've been selling military secrets to terrorists! How stupid are you, boy? Do you have any idea how this is going to affect us? Your mother is ashamed to show her face at the club!"

"How awful," Bradley muttered under his breath as his father continued to rant. Son of a bitch! How the hell had the old man found out? Did that slimy bastard Delaporte rat him out? His frown deepened. Maybe that JAG bitch had gone running to Grandpa. She'd sounded quite willing to see him get killed, why not ruin the family name as well? Thinking hard, Bradley absently hung up while his father was still raving. The first thing he needed to do was contact Delaporte. After that... after that, well, he'd figure something out.

He was still pacing, forty-five minutes later when the phone rang again. Bradley regarded it with irritation. The last thing he needed was to listen to his old man rag on him some more. It stopped after a few minutes and he resumed his pacing. So far, he still hadn't made any decisions. He'd gotten hold of Delaporte and the lawyer had been uncharacteristically belligerent. He'd also been uncharacteristically straightforward, telling Bradley that jail beat death and to deal with JAG. He'd then removed himself as Bradley's lawyer, citing some BS about being an officer of the court with knowledge of a crime. No doubt Daddy Dearest was making his displeasure with his only son known by yanking the little weasel. His inheritance was probably gone as well. Bradley gritted his teeth and straightened up. The hell with the damn money and the old man could screw himself. He didn't need it and he didn't need to grovel any more either. He was his own man. He stopped for a moment, savoring that phrase. Yeah, his own man - he'd show them. He'd come out of this stronger than ever.

The phone rang again and Bradley snatched it up. Stephen Thomas McKlellan was about to get an earful. He took a deep breath and snarled, "Now what?"

"Bradley?"

With difficulty, McKlellan stifled his anger, "Hey Win." His sister, Edwina Dabney McKlellan, was probably the only relative in his whole stinking family that he liked. Two years older, she'd done her best to protect him from their dysfunctional parents while they were growing up. "What's up?"

"Are you kidding me? Braddie, what's going on out there? Father just blew through here in an absolute fury." Her voice dropped, "I... uh, I listened at the door of the study. He was on the phone yelling at Grandpa about those military lawyers and... and, Braddie, he's cutting you out of the will."

"I figured as much," Bradley was proud that his voice sounded nonchalant. So it had been that bitch that sold him out!

"I don't want you worry. I'll make sure you get your rightful share. I promise." Win sounded desperate to reassure. "We're in this together, right? Just like always; do you need anything?"

"I'm fine, Win, really," Bradley smiled. He could always count on his big sis. "You just take care of yourself, you hear? Play it safe with the old man, okay?" They said their goodbyes and then Bradley sank down on the couch. It was time to figure out a suitable revenge.

Sunday,

En route to

the Eppes residence

1645 Local

Mac glanced over at her passenger, slight worry creasing her forehead, "You sure you're okay with this? You just got out of the hospital this morning. We could have turned down Charlie's invitation. He and Alan would have understood." Charlie had called her yesterday evening to apologize for his brother's behavior and to let her know of the latest developments in the case. How on earth he could have deduced a third party from a math formula, she had no idea but it clarified part of the case that was troubling her. Still too diaphanous to grasp, she had the disturbing image of a huge spider web with this unknown figure at its center. After she'd thanked him, Mac had mentioned her own news - Harm was being released in the morning. Charlie had immediately invited the two of them to a get-together at his place. It would be a chance to decompress (no work talk allowed) and they could celebrate this step in Harm's recovery. After thanking him, Mac had conditionally accepted, based on what Harm felt up to handling. Surprisingly, Harm had been all for it.

"Mac, I'm fine," Harm turned towards her with a somewhat smug grin, "I thought we proved that this afternoon after lunch." He'd shamelessly seduced her once they'd gained the privacy of her hotel room, barely containing himself while room service delivered their meal. Eating a salad would never be quite the same again.

She blushed a little even as a small smile quirked her lips. That hadn't exactly been planned but had been happily welcome. They'd had to make a few adjustments that definitely made it a bit more novel than their usual lovemaking. The few hours of sleep afterwards had been more restful than anything she'd had in the last couple of days. Fortunately, her time sense had woken them both up in time to prepare for this dinner with the Eppes family.

Harm's grin widened at her expression. This was definitely going in the 'good day' column. With a little luck (and if he was reading Mac right, very little persuasion), dessert back at the hotel tonight would be as memorable as lunch. His mom and Frank had departed for home this morning, just after his release. He'd forgiven them for their part in stopping him earlier - and in the face of Mac's relentless logic, grudgingly admitted that it'd been for his own good. He felt better about it now, knowing his parents were also relieved that this hadn't caused a rift in their relationship. There'd been enough of that while he was growing up. The only fly in the ointment was the meeting Mac had had with McKlellan. She'd given him a bare-bones rundown and had resisted all his efforts to elaborate on what had happened. It'd been all he could do to hold on to his temper. Perversely, it had been Mac's obvious expectation of a fight that had cooled him down.

"You're staring."

Mac's voice cut into his thoughts and he noticed that now she was wearing the smug expression. He shifted a little and answered with an easy grin, "That's because the scenery inside the car is better than anything outside." He wiggled his eyebrows, "I've changed my mind. Wanna call Charlie and cancel? I'll make it worth your while."

"Too late, Mr. Perfect Timing," Mac announced as she slowed the car and pulled into a driveway, "We're here."

"Nice place," Harm raised his eyebrows at the Craftsman. "It's different."

Mac nodded as she turned off the car and released the seatbelt, "It's a Craftsman. Apparently, there's not that many around anymore. According to Charlie, this was originally built around 1922." She grabbed the wine and hopped out of the car, coming around to his side just as he got out.

Harm couldn't contain a slight smirk at her obvious hovering, "I can manage getting out of a car, MacKenzie." He leaned in a little, "And, you have to admit, I can manage quite a bit more than that." He straightened up with a grin at her wide-eyed expression, knowing that he'd just flustered her twice in less than an hour. Once they got back to the hotel, he'd go for three. Maybe he could get them out early tonight, blaming fatigue...

"Power down, Studmuffin. Our host just came out to greet us," Mac turned with a slight smirk towards Charlie, leaving a surprised Harm silently repeating 'studmuffin' to himself. Neither of them were inclined towards cutesy pet names so she'd managed a minor bit of payback.

Amita walked out onto the porch to stand beside Charlie as the JAG officers came up the walk. Her eyebrows went up slightly, "That's Commander Rabb? Wow. ...I mean - Wow, he's tall, isn't he?" She added hurriedly when Charlie turned to look at her. She moved a little closer, tucking a hand around his elbow.

Charlie grinned as his other hand automatically came up to cover hers, "Very tall." He waited a beat and then added, "And 'Wow', too, I guess. He's not really my type. You, however - "

"Charlie!" Amita's voice dropped as Mac and Harm gained the porch. She smiled in greeting, accepting the bottle of wine they'd brought, as Charlie went through the introductions and ushered everyone into the house. For some reason, Colonel MacKenzie seemed easier to deal with now that she'd met Commander Rabb. The two were obviously a couple.

Alan turned around from his conversation with Megan and Larry and smiled when he saw Mac and Harm. Walking over, he claimed a hug from Mac and then turned to Harm as Charlie repeated his introductions. "I feel like we've already met," Alan smiled as he extended his hand. He tilted his head towards Mac, "You're a lucky man."

"Believe me, I know," Harm smiled in return, already liking the older man. He turned to Larry Fleinhart next, nodding a greeting to Megan and then looked around the room, "Don's not here yet?"

Charlie rolled his eyes a little, "He, Colby and David are out back, supervising the grilling. Hopefully, that means we won't be ordering take-out at the last minute."

"I heard that, Chuck," Don walked in, holding a beer. He stuck a hand out, "Looking a lot better there, Rabb. How're you feeling?"

Harm eyed the bottle in Don's hand, "Thirsty."

Don chuckled and then turned to Mac, "He's allowed?"

Mac grinned at the look on Harm's face and then nodded to Don, "He's allowed. No meds right now and I'm the designated driver."

"All right. Come on, there's an assortment to choose from," Don disappeared into the kitchen with Harm in tow.

Charlie watched them leave and then turned to Mac, "Would you like something to drink? It'll probably be another half hour or so before the meat is ready."

"Do you have any tonic water?" When Charlie nodded, she followed him to the makeshift bar area. Mac eyed him critically as he walked ahead of her, "How are you feeling?"

Charlie turned towards her with a smile, "It's mostly a dull ache but I'm good. I just have to remember not to stretch for anything." He glanced to where Amita and his father were talking with Larry and Megan and lowered his voice, "Umm, Don told me about your friend. If there's anything I can do to help..." He trailed off and stood looking at her a little uncertainly, obviously wondering if he should have kept his mouth shut.

Mac regarded him with a warm smile, touched by his gesture. She understood that he wasn't just offering his support but also his considerable talents. She put a hand on his arm, "Thanks, coming from you, that means a lot. I'll pass it along but I think Gibbs and the rest of Kate's team has it covered." Mac had called Abby yesterday to offer condolences and find out how the investigation was progressing. Learning that Kate's death had been nothing more than a way to get to Gibbs had hurt. However, knowing how Gibbs was, she truly didn't expect Ari to survive the next 48 hours and however it came about, she also knew it would be a clean shoot. Ari had chosen the rules and Gibbs would bury him with them.

Charlie ducked his head a little, looking at her from under his eyebrows, worried about her sudden silence, "Are you okay?"

Mac exhaled softly as she nodded, glancing away for a moment, "It's getting a little easier to accept." She looked back at him with a small smile, "I'll be fine. It'll just take some time. Kate was a good friend." She'd found the pain had lessened since Kate and Avis' dream visit. It was silly but there was comfort in the thought that she might see them that way again - it had seemed so real.

Charlie nodded and turned to the bottles lined up on a table. After a moment's perusal, he pulled one out, "Ha, here we go. I thought I'd seen this." Grabbing a glass, he added ice from the ice bucket and then poured the tonic water. Putting the bottle back, he selected another and held it up, "I don't have a lime but how about a splash of lime juice?" When Mac nodded, he deftly added the juice, giving the mixture a swirl and then presented the glass with a flourish, "One tonic water with lime."

"Thank you," Mac grinned at him, "Practicing to become a bartender?"

Charlie shrugged with a smile, "Hey, everybody needs a fallback career." Together, they walked back to the group.

- - - - - -

Don twisted the cap off of a Belgian ale and handed it to Harm, "Here you go, Commander." He gestured towards the sling Harm was wearing, "So, how long are you stuck with that?"

Harm made a face, "According to the doctors, a good month. I figure about two weeks."

Don grinned as he took another sip of his own brew, "What's Mac's opinion?" He started moving towards the back door leading to the patio and Harm followed along.

"If she had her way, I'll probably still be wearing it next spring," Harm said with a sigh of long-suffering. "She seems to think it might keep me out of trouble." They stepped out onto the patio and he nodded a greeting to Colby and David.

"Hey, Commander," Colby raised his beer in casual salute, "Good to have you back."

"Believe me, it's good to be out," Harm settled into a chair as Don turned to the grill and began rearranging the meat. David joined him and a friendly argument ensued about the merits of propane versus charcoal. Harm had the feeling it was the continuation of a discussion that had started before his arrival. He took advantage of Don's preoccupation, leaning a little towards Colby and said quietly, "I owe you one."

Granger shot him a quick look and then glanced away, "No problem. Been there, done that, don't like seeing other people go through it."

Harm regarded him for a few moments and then nodded, "You're a good man, Granger." He leaned back, took a pull of his beer and looked over at Colby, "Afghanistan or Iraq?"

"Afghanistan," Colby answered quietly. He picked at the label on his beer, "You?"

"Been there a couple of times," Harm gestured with the bottle, "Tough country."

"Oh yeah," Colby nodded and eyed Harm for a moment, "Don said you're an active pilot? How does that work with lawyering?"

"Makes for a killer cross-examination." Harm and Colby turned to see Mac standing in the doorway. She walked out onto the patio and looked at Don, "Your dad wanted to know how close the meat is to being done." She waited a moment and then grinned, "Charlie just wants to know if it's still edible."

Don straightened in mock indignation, "Tell Charlie if he keeps that up, the only thing he'll be eating is his words." He flipped the meat over, "Five minutes, tops."

Sunday

Executive Towers

Los Angeles, CA

2040 Local

Harm walked into Mac's room and dropped onto the bed, smothering a groan. While the evening with the Eppes and their friends had been enjoyable, he was feeling it now. It had been worth it, though. Despite Charlie's edict that this was to be a no-work evening, he'd managed to buttonhole Megan about the meeting with McKlellan. What he'd learned had had him wanting to shake some sense into his stubborn Marine. Megan must have seen it because she'd quietly read him the riot act about confronting Mac on this issue. Done was done and any additional stress would be unproductive. All they could do now was be ready to deal with whatever fallout occurred. Harm hadn't agreed but creating a scene at the Eppes wasn't an option and by the time they'd left, he was too tired. Tomorrow morning would be soon enough to broach the subject with Mac.

He felt Mac settle on the bed next to him. Her hand went to his forehead and Harm pried open an eye to look at her. Mac smiled, "Overdid it a bit, did you?"

"No," his denial was automatic. Harm felt the bed shift and then made an ineffectual grab for Mac as she got up from the bed, "Don't go." He closed his eyes and groaned as she disappeared into the bathroom. No doubt she was after his pain meds and once he took them, that would be it for the evening. Medicated into oblivion was not how he wanted to spend his first night with Mac since that damned attack.

"Harm? You in there?"

Mac's voice alerted him and he turned his head to look at her. She was standing next to the bed holding a glass of water and what were probably his pills in the other. Harm scowled a little, "Mac, I'm fine. I don't need those."

Mac lifted an eyebrow at the hint of petulance running through Harm's words. She really couldn't blame him. God knew she was ten times worse when it came to these sorts of drugs although her issues were far different than his. What was common for them both was the abhorrence for any loss of control. She lifted the hand holding the pills, "Ibuprofen, tough guy." Mac took on a smile that started his blood racing, "It's better when you're coherent."

"Definitely," Discomfort and fatigue forgotten, Harm rolled on his side and pushed himself upright, reaching out for her.

Stepping back just enough, Mac laughed lightly and extended the pills, "Uh-uh, Navy, ibuprofen first." She paused a beat, grinning, and added in a sultry tone, "Then we'll have to see about getting you undressed."

With a smile that threatened to split his face in two, Harm all but snatched the pills from her and gulped them down. After handing back the water, he eased backwards a little and answered in a low tone of his own, "Take your time, Marine."

She glided onto the bed in a way that had Harm vaguely wondering when she'd acquired feline DNA and then, ironically, all coherent thought fled.

Monday

Executive Towers

Los Angeles, CA

0110 Local

Mac roused slowly and then sighed as her internal clock helpfully provided the time. Carefully disengaging herself from Harm's side, she took a moment to study him. Not surprisingly, he was dead to the world. She resisted the urge to touch him, afraid of waking him from his much-needed sleep. She felt a twinge of guilt. This time she'd done the seducing and although Harm had been an enthusiastic participant, she probably should have shown more restraint. The man was just out of the hospital for godsakes.

"He looks happy."

Mac's head snapped around and then she fell back on the bed and covered her eyes. "Dammit, get out of my head."

Kate folded her arms from her perch on the dresser, "That's not very polite. I'm only trying to help."

"At 0112? Give me a break," Mac kept her eyes closed, debating how to go about waking up when she'd thought she was already awake.

"Hey, it's not like I've got your time sense. Actually, I can't say I really have any sense of time now," Kate's voice sounded thoughtful. She also sounded like she was next to the bed.

Mac cracked open an eye and saw nothing but indistinct shadows. She frowned, "Where are you?"

"Evvveeerywwwheeerrrreeee," came the sepulchral reply before Kate started chuckling. "I've been so wanting to do that. Oh come on, Mac, it was a joke. I'm allowed."

Sitting up, Mac looked around the room, "Why can't I see you?"

"Takes energy. Believe me, this is a lot easier but it doesn't mean indefinite." Kate took on a businesslike tone, "So, have you figured it out yet?"

"No, I haven't figured it out," Mac huffed in exasperation, realizing Kate was talking about the case. This was totally unfair. Apparently her mind had no intention of letting her out of this dream. She didn't want to have the terrorists or McKlellan - especially not McKlellan - in her head 24/7. "Why don't you tell me?" Drawing up her knees so she could rest her elbows, Mac lightly massaged her temples. After a moment, she glanced around the room again, "Well?"

"Oh for pete's sake, Mac, connect the dots," now Kate was sounding exasperated, "and stop buying into the obvious."

"Easy for you to say," Mac snapped irritably. "Okay, fine, whatever." She threw the covers back and got up, moving to the window. There wasn't a light to be seen anywhere. With her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could just make out the abandoned hulks of buildings. Mac turned back into the room, "This again? I didn't understand it the first time, remember? What makes you think seeing this in the dark will make it any clearer?"

"Because you're getting more of the pieces. Didn't Charlie say he found the puppet master?"

Mac jumped at the sound of Kate's voice right by her ear and then hissed quietly, "Kate! For godsakes, make a noise when you move!"

"Stop avoiding the subject."

Despite the stern tone, Kate's voice came from further away. Mac braced a hand on wall next to the window, "I'm not avoiding anything and Charlie's math stuff only indicates a third party. It doesn't exactly pop out a name and address. Why don't you just tell me what you know?"

"And miss all this? Not a chance."

Even though Mac couldn't see her, she could imagine Kate standing there with her head tilted to the side and arms folded in that stance she used when she was exasperated. Mac turned back to the window and stared out at the decaying city.

"That's your first mistake."

Mac snapped her head around, "What?"

"What do you see?"

"A destroyed city," Mac gritted her teeth, feeling like she was beating her head against the proverbial wall. "Why? What do you see?"

"Rebirth."

... 267914296, 433494437, 701408733 ...


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Monday

Executive Towers

Los Angeles, CA

0435 Local

Harm stirred slightly, stretching out an arm. When it didn't encounter Mac, he woke up the rest of the way. Her side of the bed was cool, telling him she'd been up for a while. Familiar with Mac's bouts of insomnia, Harm couldn't help frowning. Since they'd been sleeping together, those instances had grown fewer and further between. Surely she couldn't be feeling guilty about last night? With an effort, he pushed himself into a sitting position, turning on the bedside light and looking around the room. His brow furrowed in confusion, "Mac?" She was curled in the chair by the window. From what he could see, she seemed to be asleep. What the hell? "Mac?" he repeated a bit more loudly.

That did it. Mac's head came up, already turning to survey the room before her eyes were fully open. "Harm? What's wrong?" her voice was still raspy with sleep.

He regarded her with a hint of frustration, "You mean besides the fact I'm here and you're over there? When did you get up?"

"0112." She answered before really thinking about it and then wished she could take it back. Harm was looking at her with one eyebrow raised, obviously waiting for more and she wasn't sure about going there. She ran a hand through her hair, glancing towards the window, half-expecting to see the abandoned version of LA.

Harm must have picked up on the sudden tension because his voice was softer, "What's wrong? What happened?"

Taking a deep breath, Mac shook her head as she turned back to him, "It's nothing, a dream - that's all."

"Some dream, if it got you out of bed," Harm pointed out, feeling a little prickle of alarm run down his neck. He'd been with her before when she'd had nightmares and she usually wound up closer to him, instinctively seeking comfort. A dream that drove her from the bed couldn't be good. He couldn't help remembering what Sturgis had told him about working with Mac on that murder case. It had started out with a dream as well.

Mac shrugged as her gaze dropped to her hands. He knew her too well, "I, um, I saw Kate." She didn't have to look at Harm to know he'd stiffened, "It was just a dream. I know that."

"What was she doing?" his tone had turned cautious and she knew he was beginning to worry.

Mac attempted a small smile, "That's the weird part. She's involving herself in this case." Her gaze was inadvertently drawn to the window for a second, "She seems to think I'm missing the big picture."

Harm frowned as he glanced at the window as well. What was so fascinating about it? Mac couldn't seem to stop looking. Did she think she'd seen Kate out there? He scrubbed a hand along the side of his jaw, "Did she happen to mention what the big picture might be?"

Mac shook her head in exasperation, "Apparently, that's for her to know and me to find out."

"Not much help," Harm relaxed a little. He tilted his head, his tone cautious once more, "Maybe your subconscious is on to something and it's using dreams to work it out."

Mac relaxed as well, "Yeah, that could be it." She glanced away, a slight lump developing in her throat, "I just wish I'd quit conjuring up Kate. It's so hard, seeing her like that."

"Like what?" Harm's voice was gentle.

"With that..." Mac waved a hand, swallowing heavily, "with that bullet hole in her forehead." She could feel the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and rubbed her face with both hands. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"It's okay," he patted the side of the bed, "It's still early, come back to bed." Harm gave Mac an encouraging smile as she got up and walked over. Soon enough she was nestled against his side, her head on his shoulder and an arm draped across his waist. It didn't take long for her breathing to begin to even out and she murmured sleepily when Harm pulled her in tighter. He adjusted himself so he could rest his cheek against the top of her head and let out a careful sigh.

This was a development that could complicate matters. Although, he was inclined to believe this was just her mind combining the open questions about the case with the trauma of losing Kate, what if it turned out to be one of her psychic moments? He knew she had little control over her abilities. What if she'd had a vision? If it turned into a legitimate lead, they'd have a hard time explaining it to their FBI counterparts. There was no way in hell Mac would admit to any of them that she had even the slightest hint of psychic ability. He couldn't blame her. If their positions were reversed, he wouldn't be very keen on confiding in the FBI either.

Speaking of which - Harm frowned. With one arm in a sling, he was pretty much confined to office duty. Don had called him about keeping Megan or Colby with Mac while she was out in the field and Harm was grateful for the agent's thoughtfulness. Mac would be less grateful but despite that, she would see the wisdom of working with a partner. At this point, no one knew for sure how McKlellan was going to react.

Monday

Executive Towers

Los Angeles, CA

0620 Local

The ringing of a cellphone woke Harm up and he scowled for a moment when he realized the bed was once again empty. His expression soon cleared when he identified the background noise as that of the shower. The cellphone went off again and he regarded it irritably for a moment before grabbing and flipping it open. "Commander Rabb," he snapped while glancing at the bedside clock. Who the hell called at 0620 in the morning?

"Rabb?"

Harm froze, suddenly wide awake. It was General Cresswell and he'd just answered Mac's phone. She was going to kill him. He cleared his throat, "Yes sir."

Cresswell stared at his phone for a moment, checking the number again. Yes, it was Colonel MacKenzie's. He raised an eyebrow and allowed himself a slight smirk. He could just imagine the thoughts that had to be racing through Rabb's mind. On the other hand, it was now apparent those two were still a couple and he owed his wife a dinner out. Of course, aside from listening to her 'I told you so', the prospect of dining out with his wife could hardly be considered losing. He decided to give Rabb a break and not comment at all, "Is Colonel MacKenzie there, Commander?"

Harm's eyes shot to the bathroom door and as if on cue, the shower stopped. Trying not to sound too relieved, Harm replied, "One moment, sir." He placed the phone on the night stand and scrambled out of bed, all the while silently cursing the awkwardness of using only one hand. With the barest of knocks, Harm opened the bathroom door, startling a still wet and naked Mac. It was almost enough to distract him - almost. He cut off whatever protest she was about to make, "General Cresswell's on your cell." He couldn't quite hear what she muttered under her breath as she hurried past but he was willing to bet that somewhere paint was peeling. Harm hung back in an attempt to give Mac a little privacy. Having the JAG call this early in the morning couldn't be good.

He stopped in the doorway. Mac had her back to him, keeping the towel pinned in place with an elbow while she held the phone in her good hand. Leaning against the doorjamb, he let himself admire the view as the towel slowly worked its way south. His casually lascivious thoughts were jarred to a halt at the abrupt stiffening of Mac's posture and a quietly explosive 'No sir!'. Harm frowned as he listened to her continue to reel off a sharp and steady stream of 'Yes sirs' and 'No sirs'. Eventually the call ended. Mac maintained her rigid attitude until she'd carefully placed the phone on the table. At that point, her shoulders slumped as she ran a hand through her wet hair.

Harm moved up behind her, lightly resting a hand on her shoulder, "What was that all about?"

Mac turned towards him with a sigh, "Cresswell just got an earful from the SecNav. Somehow McKlellan's father has gotten wind of the possible treason charges. He's been pitching a major fit. He thinks I'm responsible for leaking the news and, needless to say, he'd like my head on a platter."

Harm wrapped an arm around her, careful of the yellowing bruises she'd acquired during the driveby. It seemed like a lifetime ago, "What did Cresswell do?"

She gave a half-shrug, "Told the SecNav he'd look into it."

Ducking his head so he could see her eyes, Harm did his best to appear reassuring, "He knows it wasn't you, right?"

She nodded slowly, "Yes but that might not be enough. The SecNav will want proof."

Harm's eyebrows rose, "How does he expect us a prove a negative?"

"Who knows?" Mac pulled out of Harm's embrace, her manner still subdued, "I'd better finish getting ready. I'm supposed to be at the FBI in 55 minutes." She raised her head to look at him, "What about you? Do you want to stay here and rest?"

Harm was already shaking his head, "No thanks, I've rested enough on this trip." He turned towards the chair that held his clothes from last night. Grabbing the pants, he sat to pull them on, stopping Mac with a look, "Go do your stuff. I can handle this." Harm raised an eyebrow and waited until Mac rolled her eyes and headed back to the bathroom. Once she was out of sight, he carefully slid his arm out of the elastic band he used at night. Moving it hurt like hell but it gave him just enough grip to get his pants on. The shirt was a bit easier. Once he got his good arm in a sleeve, he draped it across the bad shoulder. Harm smiled in satisfaction at finally dressing himself. His grin grew a little wider as he recalled the undressing from the night before. It probably wouldn't be too hard to convince Mac that he'd need help again tonight.

"Harm? Everything okay out there?"

"It's fine," Harm smiled. Mac was resolutely staying out of sight. "I'm going to finish dressing in my room. Come on over when you're done." He collected the rest of his things and headed for the door. Once there, he stopped and turned back, his manner slightly hesitant, "Hey Mac? What did Cresswell say about my answering your phone?"

She poked her head out of the doorway and shook it, looking a bit bemused, "Absolutely nothing."

"Oh." Mulling that over, Harm headed for his room.

Monday,

FBI Headquarters

Los Angeles, CA

0735 Local

Don walked into the bullpen and raised an eyebrow at the presence of the two JAG officers, along with Colby, all busily working on computers. Nodding a greeting to the three, he made his way to the breakroom and some desperately needed coffee. With his caffeine fix firmly in hand, Don returned to find that Megan and David had arrived as well. Leaning against a desk, he stirred the coffee, took a sip and then absently stuck the stirrer in his mouth, "So where are we?"

Colby leaned back, "I think I've got a lead on Husam. It seems Naser wasn't exactly a choirboy over in Egypt and one of his known associates was a Husam ak-Abdel. They were suspects in a market bombing about a year back but vanished before the authorities could grab them. Word is they wound up in Afghanistan for a while and then in Syria. The trail pretty much ends about six months ago. Homeland Security's sending over any information they might have on him."

"How does Rashid fit in?"

"Don't know yet," Colby shrugged. "The Kuwaiti authorities are taking their time with his family history. Seems the old man is a big deal in their government and nobody wants to the first to step on toes."

Don nodded, "Keep at it." He looked at the others, "Forensics couldn't get a hit on the DNA found at the Fawwaz murder so whoever killed him isn't in the system." Don nodded towards David, "Why don't you and Colby do a second canvass of the Compton. Somebody had to have seen something. Now that it's been a few days, maybe memories have improved." Don finally turned his attention to Megan and the JAG officers, "Any word from McKlellan?" He frowned a little when Mac hesitated before shaking her head. Rabb had leaned back and was watching her, obviously waiting for something. Don glanced at Megan to find her studying the JAG officers as well. He folded his arms, "What?"

Mac looked away for a moment and then sighed, "The elder McKlellan has been heard from. Somehow, he's heard about the possible treason charges against his son and he's out for blood. He thinks I leaked the information in an effort to slander the family name and now he'd like to have me shot at sunrise."

"Damn. You didn't, did you? Never mind, forget I said that," Don held up his hands as Harm prepared to take umbrage. He glanced around the room, "So aside from us, how many people knew about this?"

"McKlellan, obviously. His lawyer, the MPs in the room and General Cresswell," Harm stated firmly. He glanced over at Mac. They hadn't really discussed Cresswell's phone call. "Did the General know how McKlellan Sr. found out?"

Mac shook her head, "He heard it from the SecNav who heard it from Senator Coughlin - another new fan of mine, by the way - who heard from his son-in-law."

Megan pursed her lips, "You know, someone's been after McKlellan from the get-go. First, there's the murder for which he's the number one suspect. That charge leads us to the black marketing and the possible selling of information to terrorists. Now that seems to be out before we've even made our case. It's like they want to disgrace the family any way they can."

"You think this is a personal vendetta?" Don frowned thoughtfully.

"Seems that way," Megan shrugged. "The McKlellans are rich and powerful. Judging from what we've learned of them so far, I'd say it was a good bet that they'd been pretty ruthless on their way to the top. Somebody's looking for payback."

"And, somehow, that person's tied to the terrorists? How likely is that?" David was patently skeptical. "I think we should take a closer look at the lawyer."

Megan shook her head, "I don't think so. He was brought in after McKlellan was accused of murdering Fawwaz. How would he have known he'd be tapped to handle the case? The McKlellans must have dozens of lawyers on retainer."

"Megan's right," Harm leaned back in his chair, "Delaporte doesn't fit the timeline. Besides, according to Charlie, there's someone else out there and now we know that person is carrying a grudge against the McKlellan family. That should narrow the field."

Mac was shaking her head, "But it's all still conjecture at this point. The only evidence we've really turned up has been against McKlellan. We don't have any proof that Husam or Rashid are part of a terrorist group or what their agenda might be and we don't have any proof that they're connected to Fawwaz's murder." She looked at the group, "We need McKlellan to tie all this together. He's our link."

"And so far, he doesn't seem to be talking," Megan sighed.

The discussion stopped when Mac's cellphone went off. Glancing at the screen, she frowned slightly, "It's Commander Barsantos over at Ventura." Standing up and moving away a little, she quietly answered.

Don watched her for a moment and then returned his attention to the rest, "Commander, why don't you and I pay a visit to Charlie this morning, give him the new data and see if he can elaborate a bit more on what he's found."

"Sounds good," Harm nodded, half his attention on Mac. He straightened up when he saw her tense and heard a low 'what?!' The change in Mac's posture caught Megan's attention as well and she exchanged a look with Harm. By the time, Mac ended her call, most of the group was watching her.

Harm asked the question first, "What did Barsantos want?"

"It's more what Petty Officer McKlellan wants," Mac took a deep breath. "According to Barsantos, someone took a shot at McKlellan through his bedroom window early this morning. He wants protection and he's willing to talk to get it."

Don couldn't help grinning. Finally, a break in the case. "Great, David, you and Colby head out to Ventura and bring him back here," He trailed off at the expression on Mac's face and added quickly, "So Colonel MacKenzie and Megan can interview him, of course." Don ignored the amused look Megan gave him, turning to Harm, "Why don't we take the canvass over at the Compton?" When Harm nodded, he glanced at his watch, "Okay, I'll give Charlie a call and see if he can come in this afternoon. Hopefully, we'll have a lot more data to give him."

The men headed out, leaving Mac and Megan alone. Mac followed Harm's retreating figure until it disappeared into the elevator. Her shoulder still tingled from the hand he'd rested there as he walked by. She pulled her attention back when Megan cleared her throat.

The agent gave her a smile, "I could use some more coffee, how about you?"

"Sure," Mac nodded, getting up and following Megan into the break room. Neither woman spoke as they got their coffee. Megan finished preparing hers first and leaned against the counter while she waited for Mac. She eyed the Marine for a few seconds as she sipped the hot brew, "So, Mac, how are you doing?"

"Fine," Mac's response was automatic as she stirred her coffee. She glanced up to see Megan giving her a skeptical look and rolled her eyes, "Do you ever let up?"

"Occupational hazard," Megan shrugged, gazing down at her mug. She looked at Mac from under her eyebrows, "You seem a little on edge this morning."

Mac stared at the agent for a long moment and then leaned back against the counter as well, "I haven't been sleeping well. There's something about this case that's bothering me and I can't quite figure it out."

Megan tilted her head to the side, "I can think of a lot of things about this case that bother me but it's not keeping me up at night. Wanna talk about it?"

Mac lifted a shoulder and let it fall. There was no way she was going to bring up her dreams of Kate, "There's not much to talk about." She sighed when Megan continued to watch her, "I think... I'm afraid that the goal of whoever's behind all this is bigger than what we've come to expect from domestic terrorists."

Megan straightened up a little, her manner more intent, "Like 9-11 big?"

"I don't know. It's really just a gut instinct." Frustrated, Mac shook her head, "I could also be completely off-base."

Megan relaxed again, "Well, maybe PO McKlellan can shed some light on the subject." Mac nodded, relieved that Megan seemed willing to drop the subject. The two women moved back to the bullpen and their respective computers. Fifteen minutes later, Megan's phone rang. Picking up the handset, she answered, "Special Agent Reeves... hey, David, what's going on?... really?... did you try - ?... okay... well, let me ask... just a second..." She turned to Mac, "David and Colby are having some trouble with McKlellan. He refuses to go anywhere with them; says he doesn't know them from Adam and he's not taking any more chances. He wants you and me to escort him to headquarters."

Mac frowned, suddenly feeling slightly uneasy, "I don't know. I don't trust that man any further than I can throw him."

"Agreed, but it's not like it'll be just us. The guys will be following," Megan pointed out.

"Can't his lawyer talk him into going with David and Colby?" Mac leaned back in the chair, her outward appearance at odds with her emotions. That edgy feeling was growing worse.

"He doesn't have a lawyer any more," Megan leaned back as well, "Apparently, Delaporte dumped him after the murder charges were dropped."

"That's interesting," Mac arched an eyebrow, "Not surprising but interesting."

"So? Do we head to Ventura?" Megan returned to the original question.

Mac hesitated another couple of seconds and then reluctantly nodded, "Okay." As soon as she agreed, a shivery feeling chased itself down her spine. Mac frowned in annoyance at herself as she stood up. She was being ridiculous. Her imagination had been way too active lately. Silently, she walked to the elevator with Megan. Following the agent in, she turned and froze, inhaling sharply as the doors closed. For just a second, she thought she'd seen a shimmering figure.

"Mac? Everything okay?" Megan watched the Marine Colonel with a twinge of concern. She tried a small smile, "You look like you've seen a ghost." Her smile faded at the startled look she received and she stretched out a hand, not quite touching the other woman. "Hey, I was kidding. What's going on?"

Mac shook her head as she concentrated on calming breaths. There hadn't been anything out there. There couldn't have been. Her eyes jerked back to Megan when the elevator came to a sudden halt. The agent was standing by the control panel with her hand on the stop button, "All right, Colonel. You need to talk. Now."

"I'm fine," Mac ground out, her anxiety quickly morphing into anger.

"Like hell," Megan retorted, folding her arms. "Talk."

"About what?!" Exasperated, Mac threw her hands in the air, "What do you want me to say? That I've got a bad feeling about McKlellan? I do. That this case is beginning to scare me on levels I hadn't dreamed of before? It does."

"Scarier than Paraguay?" Megan fired back, "Scarier than taking on a vicious terrorist by yourself? Lady, you don't scare that easy. What did you see?"

"Nothing!" Mac snapped. "Can we please get to Ventura? They're waiting for us."

"Let them wait." Frustrated, Megan raked a hand through her hair. Damn stubborn woman. "Look, I need your head in the game. You're right. This is a scary case and if you can't handle it, then get your CO to bring you home and send someone out here who can."

Stung, Mac drew herself up and leveled a glare at the agent that usually sent subordinates scrambling for cover. Her voice was cold enough to drop the temperature a good ten degrees, "Move this elevator. Now."

Megan matched the Colonel's glare for a few seconds before her posture relaxed. With a sigh, she turned and punched the button for the lobby. That tactic certainly hadn't worked. She was no closer to whatever was bothering Mac and now she had a seriously pissed-off Marine on her hands. The ride to Ventura was going to be lovely.

... 7778742049, 12586269025, 20365011074 ...


	19. Chapter 19

I keep meaning to thank you all for the gracious reviews and I keep forgetting to add it to the chapter before I upload. Well, this time I remembered! Thank you so much - it means a lot! Knowing y'all are still interested in this is added incentive to write as quickly as possible. Things are coming together for our heroes - this is the part of the story I enjoy writing the most. Pulling all the threads together sometimes feels like I'm riding an avalanche. It's kind of scary and doesn't always wind up where I expect but it's ever so much fun! As always, enjoy.

Chapter 19

Monday,

595 Puller Lane,

NBVC

Ventura, CA

0910 Local

Megan pulled in behind David's SUV and switched off the ignition. She glanced over at Mac to find the Marine Colonel was already exiting the vehicle. Megan heaved a sigh as she opened her own door and got out. The long ride out here had been silent and she was beginning to suspect that she'd been maneuvered into that situation by the JAG officer. After the initial blow-up, Mac hadn't really seemed angry. Pre-occupied would be closer to the truth but she'd maintained that barrier of silence like a shield and Megan hadn't figured a way around it. She walked up to where David and Colby were standing, "Hey guys." Mac had already passed them and was talking to the MP in charge.

"Hey," Colby acknowledged Megan's greeting with a quick lift of his chin and then nodded in Mac's direction. "What's going on? She barely noticed us on the way past."

Megan scrubbed a hand through her hair, "She's wasn't too keen on this and then I royally pissed her off. I guess you guys are catching some of the fallout. Sorry."

Colby raised an amused eyebrow, "You did it on purpose? Were you feeling suicidal? Jarheads don't come with a sense of humor. It's not in the regs."

- - - -

Mac scanned her surroundings as she got out of the Suburban. McKlellan's house sat on a curving, tree-lined residential street. For the most part, it was flat and she found herself relaxing just a little. This wasn't a good place for a sniper. No good vantage points and the lines of fire were extremely limited because of the trees. The incident with Megan had given her an excuse to stay silent and she'd taken full advantage of it. It gave her time to think and go over her options. Nodding briefly as she swept past Sinclair and Granger, she made a beeline for the MP in charge.

He stiffened to attention as he saw her approach, snapping off a brisk salute when she stopped in front of him.

Mac returned it, "As you were, Staff Sergeant -, she glanced at his nametag, "Vasquez." She looked over at the house, "What can you tell me about this?"

The Sergeant gestured towards another house across the way, "Not a lot, ma'am. We got the call from the neighbor across the street about shots being fired around 0645. We arrived at 0655 and secured the area. There was no sign of a gunman anywhere and the neighbor couldn't tell us exactly where they thought the shooting had come from." Vasquez shrugged a little, "I knew Petty Officer McKlellan lived here and considering the trouble he's been in, I checked his house first. He didn't answer when we knocked, so I sent Pvt. Whittaker to check the perimeter. He found a couple of bullet holes. One in the side of the house and one through the bedroom window. I called for more backup and entered the house at that point. The Petty Officer was in his bedroom, curled up on the floor on the far side of the bed, shaking like a leaf. The bullet had hit the headboard just above his pillows. He couldn't tell me anything, said he'd been asleep. I called my CO at that point and I guess he called Commander Barsantos. Mr. McKlellan wouldn't talk to him when he arrived, just kept saying to call the FBI - he wanted protection."

Mac nodded thoughtfully. So far, everything sound legit, "The shooter leave any evidence behind?"

The Sergeant gave another small shrug, "No, ma'am. A single footprint outside the window. It looks like he policed his brass. NCIS is processing the scene now if you want to talk to them."

Mac gave her head a small shake, "I'll check in with them later. Where's Commander Barsantos?"

"Inside with the Petty Officer," Vasquez replied.

"Would you see if the Commander can come out, please? I'd rather Petty Officer McKlellan didn't know I was here yet." The Sergeant nodded and Mac watched as he jogged over to the house and went inside. Left to herself, she continued to scan the surrounding area. That damn uneasiness was still with her.

"Colonel?"

Mac spun around quickly. Colby was standing nearby and she hadn't heard him approach. She gave him a sour look, "Tag-teaming now?"

Granger raised his hands as if warding off her glare, "Just checking in. You know Don doesn't want anyone out in the field without a backup." He glanced around the perimeter as well, "You expecting something?"

Mac eyed him for a moment. Colby was the only member of the FBI team who had had combat experience. She gave half a shrug, "When you were in Afghanistan, ever get a gut feeling that something was about to happen?"

Granger immediately sobered, "As a matter of fact, yeah."

"Ever ignore it?"

"Once," Colby looked down at the ground, "Almost didn't get another chance." He glanced around again, "Sniper would have to be sitting on top of us to get a shot here."

Mac nodded in agreement, "I know, but that twitchy feeling is still there. I don't like this."

Granger studied her for a moment. He wanted to ask how a JAG, and a female one at that, managed to acquire enough combat experience to warrant gut instincts but now wasn't the time. "What have you got in mind?"

Mac could only shake her head. Barsantos was walking out of the house, "I think I'm going to have to play it by ear." She turned to greet the JAG officer as he walked up to them, "Commander, thank you. How's the Petty Officer doing?"

Barsantos frowned slightly, "Pretty rattled, it seems. He wants off this base and into some sort of safehouse. That said, his paranoia is running rampant. He really thinks Agents Sinclair and Granger are going to assassinate him. 'Payback' he claims for his behavior when he was arrested over that murder." The Commander rubbed the back of his neck, giving Colby an apologetic look, "Personally, I think he's going nuts." He turned back to Mac, "I'm hoping he'll calm down once he sees you're here."

"Seems kind of odd, doesn't it?" Colby spoke up. "That he insists that Mac - Colonel MacKenzie and Agent Reeves escort him to headquarters? The Colonel all but promised to put him in Leavenworth."

Barsantos shrugged, "Like I said, he's losing it. Maybe he figures prison life is better than getting killed. If those were my choices, I certainly would." He turned to Mac, "Ready to see him, Colonel?"

Mac nodded reluctantly, "I suppose."

Together the two officers walked towards the house. Colby hung back a little, catching Megan's eye and indicating the house. She nodded her understanding and by the time Mac and Barsantos reached the front door, she was waiting. Megan felt a sense of relief when Mac gave her an amiable greeting. She fell in behind the JAGs as they entered, senses on alert. There was an MP just inside the front door and another on the other side of the room. McKlellan was inbetween the two, sitting on the couch wearing a pair of old jeans and a wife-beater t-shirt. He jumped to his feet as soon as he saw Mac, his expression somewhere between terrified and furious. The MP on the far side of the room moved with him, staying within arm's length of the Petty Officer.

McKlellan jabbed a finger at Mac, "You! You did this and now you're going to fix it, d' you hear?! I want round-the-clock protection!" He waved his arms, "Somebody tried to blow my head off!"

"Enough, Mr. McKlellan!" Mac barked, drawing herself up. "Calm down or I will walk out that door." When McKlellan sullenly subsided, she folded her arms, "What do you know about this terrorist ring?"

He glared at her, "Uh-uh, nothing doing. I'm not saying anything until you get me out of this place and into something safe!"

Mac gave Barsantos a look and the two JAG officers stepped back to confer. Megan tagged along, staying in the background. She was getting that uncomfortable, edgy feeling, too. For the life of her, she couldn't decide if it was legitimate or empathy with the Marine Colonel. Resolutely, she pushed it aside to concentrate on the JAG officers.

Mac had turned slightly so her face wasn't visible to McKlellan, "Has he given you anything to justify taking him into protective custody?" When Barsantos shook his head, she couldn't help a look of frustration, "So he could by lying through his teeth." She glanced the Petty Officer's way, "I'm tempted to leave him here."

Barsantos glanced at McKlellan, too, keeping his voice down, "It's already been cleared with our CO. Since there's no charges as yet, we couldn't just turn custody over. So, officially, he's TAD with the FBI until this matter is resolved, one way or another. You need to take him." His manner clearly said the sooner, the better.

Halfway expecting something like this, Mac nodded in resignation. She half-turned towards the Petty Officer, "All right, Mr. McKlellan. Let's go."

McKlellan bounded to his feet, clearly anxious to get out of the house. The two MPs immediately closed ranks, bracketing the man on either side. Megan frowned from her position by the door. For a brief moment, McKlellan had looked more pleased than scared. Mac hadn't seen it, she was once again talking to Barsantos. There was no way to bring it to her attention without alerting McKlellan in the process.

The little entourage exited the house. Mac led the way with Barsantos beside her. Her nerves did a little dance as they stepped out into the open. Giving nothing away, she continued her march to the SUVs, eyes continually scanning the area. It helped when she realized that Colby and David had spread out at the group's approach, effectively flanking them. She caught Colby's eye for just a moment and he gave her a quick nod before returning his gaze to their surroundings. The closer they got to the vehicles, the more tense she grew. If someone was going to try something here, the window of opportunity was rapidly closing.

It was hard not to let go a sigh of relief when they finally reached the SUV. Megan went to the driver's side. The MPs put McKlellan in the back seat and Mac climbed into the passenger front seat. As soon as they were in, David and Colby trotted over to their vehicle, started it up and moved in behind. Megan pulled out once they were in position. It took a few minutes to clear the residential area. When they reached the main thoroughfare, Mac put out a hand. "Turn right," she said quietly.

Megan looked at her and then glanced in the rearview mirror at McKlellan. She kept her voice down as well, "But the main gate's to the left."

"I know," Mac had her head tilted a little to the side, like she was listening to an internal voice. "We should go out the south gate."

Megan stared at her for a moment and then shrugged, "Okay." She pulled out to the right.

McKlellan, who had been slouched down in the seat, suddenly straightened, "Where are we going? The gate's the other way. Ma'am." Megan stifled a smile. Obviously the Petty Officer had learned his lesson about showing respect for senior officers.

"We're not going out the main gate," Mac sounded matter-of-fact as she glanced over her shoulder at him. "Don't worry about it."

"But - never mind," McKlellan collapsed against the seat again. Glancing in the rearview mirror, Megan was once again the only one who caught the brief but intense flash of anger.

- - - -

David pulled out to the right, keeping his position behind Megan, "What the hell? Where are they going?" He glanced over at Colby, "Call Megan and find out what's going on. We're going the wrong way."

Colby nodded, pulling out his cellphone. After a brief pause, he asked, "Hey Megan, what's up? Everything OK up there?" He listened quietly for a few seconds before nodding and saying, "Okay, got it." Hanging up, he looked back at David, "We're going out the south gate."

"What? Why? That's gonna add almost an hour to the drive," David scowled at the SUV up ahead.

"Just go with it, man, okay? The Colonel's decision - she's got her reasons," Colby stared at David until the other man finally shrugged and then returned his attention to the passing landscape. After a minute or so, he said quietly, "It's good tactics to vary your route."

David glanced at his partner, "You saying that Colonel MacKenzie's expecting some sort of trouble? Why didn't she mention it earlier?"

Colby half-shrugged, "She did. She told me." He took David's soft grunt as acquiescence and went back to looking out the window.

- - - -

"Raoul? Anything?"

"Nothing, man, no joy."

Raoul's reply came crackling over the headset. Bernie wiped the sweat from his face, while muttering a soft expletive. This rooftop was a good vantage point but it was hotter than hell as it baked in the California sun. Where the f*** were they? He keyed his mike again, "The Feds went in over an hour ago. How long does it take to put one guy in a car? They should have been here by now." He squinted through the scope again, focusing the crosshairs on the Marine guard before shifting to a compact car as it went through the gate. Patience was part of the game but he was beginning to think they'd been misled - or outsmarted. Had he been in charge of the operation, he would have called in enough manpower to cover all the exits but their employer had dismissed that idea, citing logistics. Bernie snorted, 'logistics' was probably code for 'money'. The guy didn't want to shell out the extra cash for the additional shooters when only one would actually do the deed. Raoul had pointed out that it was the best way to get results but hadn't made any headway either. The jerk had arrogantly informed them that the clueless Feds always took the same route in and out of the base and to get their asses out there. Bernie scowled. This was partially his fault as well. Raoul was all for dropping the whole thing right then but he'd felt bound to honor their part of the deal and convinced Raoul to go along.

Bernie wiped away another trickle of sweat and checked his watch. Another hour and that would be it. He and Raoul would pack up, collect the rest of their fee from that cheapskate bastard and make a note to never accept another contract from the man. Bernie prided himself on being a professional. He was good at his job and he didn't need the aggravation of working for amateurs. There were others out there who could fill the void. Not as good as he was but younger, hungrier and more willing to put up with the BS. He keyed his mike, "One more hour, Raoul, and we're out of here."

"Copy that."

Bernie grinned when he heard Raoul mutter, 'Stupid prick' just before he keyed off.

Monday,

Compton Arms Hotel

Los Angeles, CA

0930 Local

Harm and Don got out of the SUV and walked towards the dilapidated, old hotel. The flotsam and jetsam of a dying neighborhood littered the sidewalks and street. Harm couldn't help a faint grimace at the odors emanating from a nearby alley. It made less and less sense that either McKlellan or Fawwaz would willingly come to this area. He looked over at Don, "Start in the hotel, first?"

Don grunted as he swept his gaze across the area. Was it possible for a place to degrade even further than the last time he'd been here? It'd only been a couple of days. He glanced back at the Naval Commander. Even in his summer khakis, the man stood out like a beacon, "Yeah, why not?"

They walked up to the entrance and stopped. A old man was leaning against the hotel wall. Despite the heat, he was layered in clothes - none of which looked like they had been washed in the last year or two. He watched their approach with rheumy eyes and little interest.

"Hey, man," Don waited for the old man's focus to shift. He pulled a couple of pictures out of his pocket, "Have you seen any of these men? It would have been a couple of days ago."

The man regarded him blearily while rubbing a hand across his grizzled chin, "I dunno. Can you spare some change? I ain't eaten since yesterday."

Don sighed a little as he pulled out a couple of bucks and handed it over. He waved the pictures again, "That help? Have you seen these guys?"

"What? Wait." The old man nodded vigorously, "Yeah, sure. I seen 'em. Talked to 'em, too."

Both Don and Harm's attention sharpened. Don stared at the man, "You did? You sure?"

"He's lying."

All three men turned towards the voice. The old man's face contorted in anger, "Shut up, Rambo."

Don and Harm exchanged glances as they eyed the newcomer. He was just as old as the first derelict although it looked like he took a few more pains with his appearance. His dark skin had that weather-beaten look of someone who spent all their time outdoors and the right side of his face had a deeply puckered scar that ran from just above his eye down to his chin. He looked at the other man, "Stop lying and I will." He shifted his attention to Don and Harm, "Slick Willie here was down at the free clinic two days ago, puking his guts out. He couldn't have seen anything."

"Who are you?" Don lifted his chin a bit, pointedly ignoring the now spluttering older man. "Were you here?"

"Go by Rambo." The man straightened up a bit and whipped off a passable salute at Harm, "Gunner's mate, USS Saratoga, '67-'69."

Harm stiffened and returned it, "As you were, Mister." He relaxed and put out a hand, "Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr., Judge Advocate out of DC. My father flew F-4 Phantoms off the Ticonderoga during 'Nam."

Rambo shook the outstretched hand and then gestured towards Harm's chest, "You got wings, too. Lawyers fly now?"

"I flew Tomcats before changing designators," Harm figured he needed to steer the conversation back to its original purpose, "Were you here a couple of days ago?"

"Up until all the cops started showing up. Made myself scarce after that." Rambo looked at Slick Willie and turned his back to point up the street, "I was over that way."

Harm glanced at Don and received a nod in return. They moved up alongside Rambo. Don pointed towards the spot Rambo had indicated, "There?" When the man nodded, all three started walking. Once they were out of earshot, Don extended the pictures, "Did you see any of these men?"

Rambo squinted at the photos for a long moment before tapping one, "This guy - doesn't look quite the same but that's him. I remember his eyes. Dead eyes - that was one scary dude. Made sure he didn't notice me."

Don grew more intent, "Was anyone with him?"

"Yeah. A skinny little dude, hispanic I think, and a big, white guy - looked like a damn mountain."

"Can you describe them?" Harm spoke up.

Rambo raised an eyebrow, "I just did, man. A skinny dude and a damn, white mountain." When the two men looked at him, he gave an exasperated grunt, "Uhm, skinny dude was young, dark-haired, mexican-lookin' like I said before, and the mountain was thirty-something, shaved head wi' beady eyes. A real mean-lookin' dude. C'mon man, I wasn't lookin' that hard. I don't need that kinda trouble."

Harm raised his hands, "Okay, okay. Look, we appreciate your help."

Don persisted, "Anything else? Jewelry, scars, tattoos?"

Rambo's face cleared a little, "Oh yeah, mountain had a tat on his arm, down by his wrist. One of them weird monster things. You know, looks like a lion but got a guy's head, lots of teeth. Nasty looking."

"Manticore," Harm stated and shrugged when both Don and Rambo looked at him.

Don shook his head a little, the weird stuff people knew could always surprise him. "A manticore, huh? That's good, that's gotta be unusual." He turned back to Rambo and held out a hand, "Thanks, man. You've been a lot of help."

Rambo shook his hand and then grinned at the pair of twenties Don had slipped him, "No, thank you." He started to leave and then turned back, "Hey, there was something else that was weird that day."

"Yeah?" Don glanced at Harm, "Weird how?"

The old man glanced around, "There was a guy out here watching the hotel. Showed up about the same time as those other dudes. Never saw him before, haven't seen him since."

"What was the weird part?" Harm asked.

"Well, he looked like a homeless guy but he wasn't," Rambo spread his hands and shrugged.

Don frowned, "How could you tell?"

Rambo grinned crookedly, "Man, he didn't stink."

"What?" Harm exchanged a confused look with Don.

Rambo sighed in exasperation, "The dude had a week's worth of dirt on him and his clothes looked like he got 'em outta the bottom of a trash can and he didn't smell at all. Man, this is LA. He didn't even smell sweaty."

Don glanced at Harm, "Undercover cop maybe? I know it wasn't us."

"Dude wasn't a cop," Rambo stated firmly. He nodded his head when the other two men looked at him, "The cops know what they're doin'. You can't tell them from us. This guy was an amateur."

"What'd he look like?" Harm's manner grew more intense. Could this be the man who was after McKlellan?

"Older, kinda like me. Stocky, gray hair from what I could see." Rambo paused, frowning a little.

"So, was he white, black, latino, what?" Don asked.

"Wasn't white; weren't black," Rambo frowned in concentration, "I wanna say mexican but that's not right neither. Man, I dunno. What else is there?"

"Middle eastern? Asian?" Harm suggested. Rambo shook his head.

"Indian?" Don asked, remembering Charlie's shooter.

Rambo suddenly brightened, pointing at Don, "Yeah, that's it. Dude was Indian."

Harm frowned at Don, "Think he was with Naser?"

Don shrugged, "Could be - we can check when we get back to the office." He turned back to Rambo, "Thanks, man, you've been a big help." He fished a business card out of his pocket, "If you ever find yourself in a jam, give me a call. I'll see what I can do."

Harm dug out a business card as well and handed it over, "You ever need an attorney, call me." He watched as Rambo turned and ambled away and looked at Don, "Back to the office?"

Don shook his head, "Let's run by CalSci first and talk to Charlie." He grinned, "We just scored another piece of the puzzle."

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	20. Chapter 20

Seeing how I probably won't be posting again before next Sunday - Happy Thanksgiving to everyone in the U.S.! Those of you serving overseas, please know our prayers are with you.

Chapter 20

Monday,

Liwanu Enterprises

Los Angeles, CA

0940 local

"Mr. Bander?" Margery stood in the doorway waiting for her boss to finish the phone call to one of California's more prominent state senators. When he looked up with a smile and motioned her in, she moved to one of the chairs in front of his desk and stood quietly. Despite the years they'd known each other, she never presumed upon their acquaintance, keeping her manner formal in the office. It had stood her in good stead over the years. Human nature being what it was, she always made sure to give the gossips absolutely nothing to work with. Margery much preferred 'Ice Queen' over 'office slut'.

Carson finished his phone call and looked up at his protege, "What do you have for me?" He was in a good mood this morning. His calls to a few select politicians had resulted in a new round of squabbling. He would have someone alert the media to this latest delay on the budget.

Margery held up a folder, "I have more background information for you." Although she was curious about why the Bear would want a deep background check on federal agents and military officers, she didn't ask. There were times when it was important to be able to honestly claim ignorance. He would tell her if she needed to know.

"Thank you," Bander accepted the folder and waited until Margery had returned to her desk. He'd just opened it when his private line rang. Bander picked up without hesitation. There were very few people who had the number of the direct line into his office, "Bander."

"Mr. Bander, it's JohnnyD." The voice crackled over the line, telling Bander that whatever Johnny was doing, it was on the move.

"What have you got?" Bander absently scanned the first page in the folder. So Don Eppes' father was a protester back in the sixties - interesting but not particularly useful. The rest of the information confirmed what he already knew. Eppes was one of those agents who made the pencil-pushing higher-ups want to tear their hair out but also helped forward the FBI's formidable reputation for catching criminals and solving cases.

"They're moving McKlellan."

Bander straightened up, ignoring the rest of the folder, "Now? Where are they?"

"They left the base about ten minutes ago. Hang on," there was a pause and then Johnny came back on the line, "They're changing their route. Looks like they want to make sure no one can track them - 'cept me, of course. I managed to get a GPS tracker on both vehicles." Johnny sounded smug.

"Good job," Bander smiled into the phone. JohnnyD was an absolute genius at infiltrating enemy territory. A descendent of Cheyenne Dog Soldiers, he came by it naturally. When Bander had been informed of the shooting at McKlellan's house, he'd contacted Johnny. Knowing he hadn't ordered anything of the sort made Bander suspect that McKlellan had faked the whole thing to get himself into protective custody. The problem was how much did McKlellan actually know? Husam swore up and down that the man wouldn't be able to tell the Bureau anything of use. His word might have carried a little more weight if it hadn't been for that misbegotten attempt on Dr. Eppes. Husam had rectified the situation but the fact remained that he'd misjudged his own people. They were so close now to executing their plans, Bander didn't need any more glitches.

He drummed his fingers on the folder. What to do? The ideal solution would be to grab McKlellan, find out how much he'd told the FBI and then make sure no one ever found the body. Killing the man outright was a poor second - without knowing what he'd said, they'd be operating in the dark. It could very well be possible that their entire operation was already compromised. Bander straightened up, his decision made. "Johnny? I need you to take McKlellan before he starts talking. You can have whatever you need. Can you do it?"

There was a long pause before Johnny answered cautiously, "I'm not sure that's possible. They have a chase vehicle with them. We'd have to separate the two and still be able to surprise the agents with McKlellan. It would be a lot easier to just take them all out."

"Not my first option, Johnny," Bander replied, scowling a little. He needed to know if Husam's part of his plan was in jeopardy and killing the agents would be counterproductive. He needed to throw his adversaries into disarray, not focus them with thoughts of vengeance.

The next pause was even longer. Bander waited patiently. If there was a way to pull this off, JohnnyD was the man to do it. If he said it wasn't possible, they would be forced to go with Plan B. Kill the Petty Officer and all the agents with him and deal with fallout as best he could.

"I might be able to pull it off," Johnny finally sighed, obviously reluctant, "But I'm going to need a few things and I'll need 'em fast."

"Very good," Bander reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a Blackberry. Entering a password, he quickly scrolled through a list of names. Stopping at one, he relayed the phone number to Johnny, "Tell him what you need. I'll let him know you've got cart blanche."

"It still might not work, Mr. Bander," Johnny cautioned. "If I can't take him alive, is it okay to kill him?"

Bander's expression turned hard, "If you can't take him alive, kill them all."

Monday,

Math Building

CalSci Campus

1015 Local

"He's probably teaching a class right now," Don glanced over at Harm as they headed towards the Math building. "We can wait in his office." The tall Commander was eliciting more than a few stares from the students they passed. Don shook his head slightly. What was the big deal about a uniform? The guys looked envious as hell and the girls were in danger of drowning from all the drool. He shot a quick sideways look at the JAG officer. Okay, the guy was good-looking too, but not that much.

"Any idea how long that would be?" Harm smiled politely at another pair of co-eds who seemed to be having trouble walking. Damn, did this happen every time Eppes arrived on campus? Mac had called the man handsome and then laughed at Harm's blatant disbelief. He hadn't thought it was all that funny, which had amused her even more.

"Hard to say, half an hour, an hour," Don looked at his watch and then looked at Harm, "Why? You got plans?"

Harm shook his head, "No, I was wondering if we could sit in on his class. Would he mind?" Harm was admittedly curious about Don's younger brother. Although Mac hadn't come out and said it, he could tell she thought Charlie was pretty special. He knew it wasn't on a romantic level and he figured she considered Charlie like a little brother.

"I doubt it. We'll still have to stop by his office. I don't know which room he's lecturing in." Don took the lead through the hallways until they arrived at a door marked 'Charles Eppes'. Rapping once, Don opened the door and walked in, gesturing for Harm to follow.

Harm looked around Charlie's office. It was a lot more spacious than he'd expected and a lot more cluttered. There were knick-knacks, awards, photos and a surprising amount of toys. Papers, file folders and books were stacked on most of the available surfaces. Harm couldn't help grinning as he looked around. He'd thought Mac was the only one who regularly tempted the effects of gravity with her mountains of files. Charlie was a stacker, too.

"What's so funny?"

Harm turned to see Don watching him. He waved his good hand around the room, "Cut this room in half, ditch the toys and put a few Marine posters on the walls and you've got Mac's office."

Don couldn't help chuckling, "You're kidding. Mac's a slob like Charlie? I would have never guessed."

"I am not a slob."

Don and Harm turned back towards the doorway to see Charlie standing there. The young professor walked over to his desk, unslinging the shoulder strap of his carry case and putting it on the floor by his chair. He eyed the two men, "For your information, I happen to know where everything is."

"Yeah, right," Don snorted, still grinning. He glanced over at Harm, "Sound familiar?"

"Oh yeah," Harm rolled his eyes. He'd heard the same argument from Mac for almost as long as he'd known her. All these years and he still couldn't figure out how someone as fastidious in their appearance and habits as Mac was, could be comfortable in that paper-filled chaos. Her apartment was always neat and clean, too. it was just her office that looked like a paper bomb had gone off.

Charlie folded his arms, "I'm going to assume you two didn't come down here just to bust my chops about a couple of stacks of files. What's up?"

"We might have caught a break." Don launched into all the information they'd gotten from Rambo. As he was speaking, Charlie turned towards a blackboard covered with equations and starting writing, erasing a few figures and adding others. Harm watched in fascination. As a pilot, he'd learned the higher mathematics tied to aerodynamics. This was the first time he'd ever seen an investigation converted into a mathematical equation.

Don eventually finished his narrative and then he and Harm waited for Charlie to complete his figuring. After a few more minutes, Charlie finally stepped back and contemplated what he'd done.

"Well?' Don prompted after a little bit as the silence stretched out.

"Wha... ? Oh, sorry," Charlie gestured towards the blackboard. "There's a 75% chance or greater that your observer was the one who tipped off the police."

"We kinda figured that already," Don replied, sharing a look with Harm. "That's all you've got?"

Charlie scrubbed a hand through his hair, "Well, that's not all but it's not really conclusive yet. I need more data."

"What is it?" Don persisted.

Charlie continued to look uncomfortable, "Well, it's possible that your observer is also the guy that's running all this." He waved a hand at the blackboard.

"You're kidding," Harm couldn't help the look of disbelief, "That doesn't make any sense at all. Why would someone compromise his own operation?"

"But he didn't, not really," Charlie replied. "He only gave enough information to make McKlellan a suspect. The body would have been discovered eventually anyway and Rashid would have still been interviewed about his roommate. The only variable was Husam. We might not have met him."

Don nodded slowly, looking uncomfortable in his turn, "It was your shooting that triggered the deeper investigation."

"Which provides additional proof of Mac's theory that Naser acted on his own," Charlie did his best to keep his voice sounding natural. There was no way he was going to let Don know how much the incident had affected him. He wasn't sleeping well at night and it had taken every ounce of his willpower to get himself to the lecture hall this morning. Amita, bless her, had provided rock-solid support. She'd 'happened' to meet him as he was dithering outside the classroom and nonchalantly brought up a theory of Larry's that needed some mathematical verification. The discussion had gotten him into the classroom almost without realizing it. His students' warm welcome had done the rest, making him blush and sweeping away the last of the nerves. Amita had brushed off his attempt at thanking her right then, instead giving him a look that said the situation would be entirely different tonight.

Harm's phone rang and he stepped away a little as he pulled it out. The ID showed it was Mac. He flipped it open, "Hey... " Harm straightened up a bit, "You're where?... I don't understand, I thought Colby and... he did?... Mac, I don't like... yeah, you too?... okay, I understand. Be careful." He ended the call and looked up to see Don and Charlie watching him. Harm shrugged, trying to suppress an uneasy feeling. He could tell from Mac's voice that she was on edge despite telling him that everything appeared to be okay, "McKlellan refused to go with Colby and David. He insisted that Mac and Megan take him to headquarters or he wouldn't say anything. They went out there and now they're on their way back to the office."

"Where's David and Colby?" Don's voice was sharp. McKlellan had an axe to grind with the Colonel. His sudden insistence that she escort him smacked of a set-up.

"Following." The Commander was clearly unhappy with the situation, too. "It's going to take a little longer than usual. Mac's having Megan take a random route back."

That was something. Don relaxed slightly and turned to Charlie, "Do you think you could come in this afternoon? McKlellan could break this thing wide open."

"Of course," Charlie assured his brother. "Whatever you need, just let me know."

Don looked at his watch and then at Harm, "Let's get back to the office. The Bureau SUVs have GPS. We can track their progress."

"That'd be great," relief washed over the Commander's face. "Let's go."

- - - - -

Megan glanced over at Mac as the Colonel ended her call and tucked the cell phone away, "Is he still with Don?"

Mac nodded an affirmative as she returned to scanning their surroundings. Megan was doing a good job with the random route, Mac had no idea where they were. The agent was keeping to the busier sections of the city, avoiding the less populated industrial areas. Mac glanced in the mirror to check on McKlellan. He was still sitting sullenly in the back with his arms folded, for all the world looking like a petulant little boy. She frowned slightly, wondering what sort of mischief they'd avoided by exiting at a different gate. Hopefully, their luck would hold until they reached FBI headquarters. The sooner she was out of the man's company, the better. She was still jumpy as hell.

A flurry of motion caught her attention as they came up to an intersection. Two men on the corner were arguing. As the SUV drew closer, they began shoving each other. Both Megan and Mac watched warily. They were almost up to corner when one man lunged at the other and they both tumbled into the street, wrestling with each other. Megan reacted quickly, jerking the wheel over as she barely avoided hitting the men. A horn blared from an oncoming vehicle and she accelerated as she whipped the steering wheel in opposite direction to get them back in their lane. Mac looked over her shoulder as she braced her hands on the dash, "David and Colby are stopped. They can't get past those two idiots."

Megan nodded wordlessly, the adrenalin still coursing through her veins. She started to slow down when a bright flash seemed to come out of nowhere, blinding her. Blinking furiously, she slammed on the brakes throwing everyone forward. Spots danced in front of her eyes and then there was a second flash. Ducking her head, Megan barely heard Mac call her name. What the hell was happening? She stretched out a hand in the direction of the radio, not hearing the car door open. A hand landed roughly on her shoulder and as she turned towards the threat, a third flash hit. She never saw the fist that connected solidly with her jaw.

"Megan! What's wrong?" Mac spared a quick look at the agent as they came to a screeching halt before scanning the area, trying to identify the threat. Suddenly, she was squeezing her eyes shut. It was like someone had fired off a flashgun right in front of her. Grimacing, she forced her eyes open, trying to blink away the afterimage that was obscuring her vision. McKlellan was screaming something in the back seat but she couldn't spare the attention. The passenger door opened and as she turned towards the sound, there was another blinding flash. Mac flung a hand out, encountering a solid form. As her hand closed in a fist, her assailant grabbed the back of her neck and slammed her headfirst into the dash.

McKlellan watched in horror as four hooded men converged on the SUV. The two that headed for the front doors seemed to be unarmed until he caught a green flash from one's hand. He had just a moment to realize they had used lasers to blind the two women and then both back doors were yanked open. No lasers for him, both men held lethal-looking pistols. McKlellan threw his hands up, screaming at them not to shoot. Quick as lightning, one reached in and yanked him out of the vehicle and onto the pavement. A knee landed painfully between his shoulder blades, pinning him in place. Faster than he would have thought possible, his wrists were fastened together and a bag was shoved over his head. Then he was hauled to his feet. Hands grabbed both his arms and propelled him rapidly forward. He barked his shins painfully on a metal edge and then he was airborne for a brief second before slamming into a wall. Nearly sobbing in fright, he curled into ball. A few seconds later, there was a heavy thump that was followed almost immediately by another. The floor he was laying on dipped and righted itself and then a low voice spoke in his ear, "Make one sound and I'll slit your throat, understand?" He nodded frantically.

The floor vibrated as the sound of an engine roared to life and then they were moving slowly forward. A moment later, they came to a stop. A horn began sounding and he heard a man's voice up front swearing loudly and colorfully, telling someone to get out of the way.

"Goddammit!" Colby swore as David jammed on the brakes. The two men continued their brawl, completely oblivious to their surroundings. Less than a block ahead, he saw the brake lights of Megan's SUV come on. A few moments later, a large panel truck backed out of a narrow alley blocking his view. At the same time, the car behind them began laying on his horn. Colby looked at David, "I'll get those two. Why don't you give Megan a call and see if she can pull over for a minute."

"Right," David reached for the radio and keyed it on as Colby got out and headed for the combatants. "Hey Megan?" A sudden pounding on the window distracted him from whatever reply Megan might have made. Dropping the mike, his hand automatically went to his sidearm as he spun towards the sound. An angry-looking man was beating on his window. David glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the driver's side door was open on the car behind them. Great, some nut with a burgeoning case of road rage. The agent scowled as he rolled down the window, "What?"

"What the hell's the matter with you?! Move this thing or park it!" The man was practically spitting in rage.

"Hey, I'd love to. As soon as those two jerks get out of my way!" David snapped, glancing forward to see how Colby was doing. His partner had the two men separated but was having trouble getting them to move out of the way. In the meantime, he could hear other horns blaring as the panel truck began a slow, ponderous turn, effectively blocking both lanes.

"Go around them, goddammit!" the man gestured wildly, his face turning a deep red.

"Calm down," David ordered, gritting his teeth. Colby had finally gotten the two men to the curb and was trotting back to the SUV. The panel truck hadn't been able to make the turn and was now backing slowly up to get a better angle.

"Don't tell me what to do, you son of a bitch! Move your damn truck before I kick your ass!"

Completely exasperated, David whipped his badge off his belt and shoved it in the man's face, "Try it, asshole, and then we'll see how tough you are in prison. Federal agent." If he hadn't been so pissed, David might have found it amusing at the man's complete reversal of attitude. He watched the man slink back to his car as Colby reached the SUV and climbed in.

Colby jerked his chin in the direction of the man, "What was that all about?"

"Some nut who wanted me to run over you and those two idiots so he wouldn't have to sit in his car an extra sixty seconds." He rolled an eye at Colby, "He was willing to kick my ass over it."

Colby shook his head. People were nuts, that was all there was to it. He watched the panel truck finally make his turn and pull into the lane ahead of them. Immediately, cars began flowing from the other direction. A goodly number of drivers flashed the panel truck a one-fingered salute as they accelerated past. He couldn't see around the truck to see if the other SUV was there. Colby looked over at David, "Was Megan going to wait?"

"Man, I don't know," David scowled as he moved up behind the truck, "I called her and then that jerk began pounding on the window. I don't know if she answered or not. Try her again." A knot was beginning to form in his gut. Nothing could have happened, could it? They'd only been delayed a couple of minutes, at the most. The knot grew larger as Colby abandoned the radio and went to his cell phone. Why wasn't Megan answering?

"Man, I don't like this," Colby voiced David's worry out loud. "Get around this guy." He gestured at the panel truck.

David nodded grimly, flipping on the siren and lights for good measure as he pulled around the truck. Finally getting a look at the street ahead of them, the two agents exchanged glances. The other SUV was nowhere to be seen. David pounded the steering wheel and swore. He looked at Colby, steeling himself, "Put out a BOLO. I'll call Don."

Monday,

Unknown location,

1320 Local

Megan grimaced as the hands that had been half-leading and half-dragging her suddenly let go and she landed hard on her hands and knees. The woozy feeling told her she'd been drugged at some point. She decided it was too bad it hadn't been mixed with a painkiller as she worked her sore jaw. There was probably a hell of a bruise. Leaning back on her heels, Megan cautiously pulled the blindfold down and looked around the darkened room. Had anyone asked, she could have told them the blindfold was unnecessary. All she could really tell was whether it was light or dark. The afterimage was still there, effectively blocking her vision. She clamped down on the fear that it might be permanent. Until she knew what was going on, permanent was a relative term.

A light came on overhead and Megan nearly grinned. Terrific, they'd replaced the black blurriness with white blurriness. Stealthy sounds behind her told her she was no longer alone and she tensed.

"What did the Petty Officer tell you?" A voice came from behind her.

Megan started to turn and then froze when the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of her skull. She took a careful breath, "Nothing. He didn't say anything. Ask him. Where's Colonel MacKenzie?" She barely bit back a groan when the gun barrel pulled away from her head and came down hard on her shoulder. She started to list to that side when the barrel pressed against her temple, pushing her upright again.

"You don't get to ask questions." Megan nodded slowly, her shoulder throbbing.

"What does the FBI know?"

"About McKlellan?" Megan held herself tightly, not sure if that was going to warrant punishment.

"About McKlellan," the voice confirmed.

Megan hesitated and the gun barrel pushed harder against her temple, "Not much. We know he was selling weapons, we think he was selling information. There's no proof yet."

"Selling to who?"

Megan cautiously shook her head, "Don't know. That's one of the things we were hoping he'd tell us." There was a silence and then a light shuffling noise. Megan tensed again, wondering what was coming next. Were they going to kill her now? She gasped as a needle plunged into her neck. Hands gripped her shoulders, holding her in place until she collapsed in a boneless heap.

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	21. Chapter 21

I was hoping to post this morning but my internet connection got stubborn and then I had to leave for a tournament. I may be late next week as well. There's a competition next week as well but it's out of town. I'll do my best to get the chapter up. As always, thanks for the wonderful reviews and I hope y'all enjoy this as well.

Chapter 21

Los Angeles, CA

1145 Local

As soon as the SUV came to a halt, Harm was out and moving towards Granger and Sinclair. Don was in hot pursuit, cursing the other man's longer legs while Charlie followed more slowly, looking around the scene.

"What the hell happened?" Harm put his height to good use, looming over the two agents.

Granger shook his head, not looking at Sinclair, "Man, I wish I knew. It was damn well executed."

Harm gave him an incredulous look before his face darkened, "'Well-executed'? That's all you have to say? What the hell were you two doing?" A hand clamped onto his arm and he turned angrily to find a stone-faced Don Eppes glaring at him. Harm pulled against Don's grip. "Let go," his voice was a low growl.

"As soon as you back off," Don met Harm's furious eyes with a steely gaze of his own. "I need to talk to my people." There was a pause as the two men faced each other. Don relaxed a little first, lifting a shoulder slightly, "C'mon, man, they've got Megan too. Being angry isn't going to figure this out."

Harm deflated slowly and nodded. Muttering 'sorry' at Granger and Sinclair, he turned and walked away. Don watched him leave and then turned back to his two agents, no less angry than Harm was, "What the hell happened?"

Harm stalked to the middle of the street and looked around. The police had cordoned off the entire block, rounding up all the drivers and pedestrians who'd been in the area. So far, almost every witness had a different story to tell. It was maddening. How hard could it be to recall something that happened maybe an hour ago?

Meanwhile, the crime scene unit was going over every square foot. He stood for few moments with his head down. Dammit to hell - he was getting too old to go through this again. So help him, once they found her, he was going to replace the diamond in her engagement ring with a damn GPS system. Hell, maybe he could get something embedded. Webb owed him - if there was a way to permanently lo-jack a person, the CIA would know how to do it. Shaking his head, he peered skyward and blinked a couple of times. They would find her, of course. There was no other option.

"Commander? - Harm?"

Charlie's voice penetrated his thoughts and he looked over to see the younger man watching him somewhat anxiously. Harm took a breath. It was time to pull it together, otherwise he'd be no use to Mac, "Hey Charlie, what can I do for you?"

Charlie ducked his head a little, "I was about to ask you that. Are you okay?"

Harm rubbed the back of his neck, "No. No, I'm not, but that doesn't really matter, does it?"

Charlie shifted uncomfortably and then waved a hand towards the end of the block, "I've been talking to the investigators. There's tread marks over there that match Megan's SUV. She hit the brakes pretty hard for some reason." He looked down at the ground. "They, uh, they found some blood, too. Not a lot," Charlie hurried to explain, "like from a cut or something."

Harm stared at the professor, feeling uncharacteristically lost, "How did they do it? Mac was expecting trouble. How did these guys manage to surprise and overwhelm both Mac and Megan without firing a weapon, do it within a two or three minute span and not one person out here saw anything useful?"

Charlie gazed at him for a long moment and then shook his head, "It's not possible."

"Except that it happened!" Harm flung out his arm in exasperation.

Charlie turned and looked at the various groups of people standing around, his eyebrows coming together as he frowned thoughtfully, "Yes, it did." He turned abruptly, "I need to talk to David and Colby."

Harm stood for a second with his mouth partially open in surprise and then he hurried after the young man. He didn't know Charlie that well but it was obvious Don's brother had a theory developing. It was more than Harm had and he didn't want to miss anything that might lead him to Mac.

Charlie stopped in front of David, "Would you walk me through what happened?"

Sinclair eyed the Naval Commander who was hovering just behind Charlie and then glanced at Don. Eppes nodded, watching his brother. Charlie had that intense look that told him his brother was in the process of putting two and two together and getting the square root of pi, the real story behind the JFK assassination and the location of the last sock Don had lost in the dryer.

Don, Harm and Colby listened as David began relaying the sequence of events. Charlie stopped him almost immediately, "The two guys that were fighting, they went into the street just as Megan got close?"

David nodded, "She damn near ran over them."

"But she didn't, because the FBI teaches evasive driving, right?" David nodded and Charlie turned his attention to the groups of people that were still standing around, "Are those two still here?"

Colby answered, shaking his head, "No, they took off after I threatened to haul them in."

"Are you sure?" Charlie looked at the agent.

"What are you getting at, Charlie?" Don frowned. He'd considered that they'd been part of a set-up but he couldn't quite reconcile it to himself. There would have been too many variables. Megan might have stopped instead of going around or she could have actually hit them. From what Colby and David had said earlier, she'd missed them by inches. There was also the fact that neither tried to conceal their identity. Colby and David would easily be able to pick them out of a line-up. Who would stage a kidnapping and then hand over two members of their team?

"They were professionals," Charlie answered, his gaze drifting to Colby. The agent was once again scanning the crowd.

"Professional what?" Harm finally asked.

"Son of a bitch! There's one of them!" Colby said at the same time. He headed towards a crowd near the curb. David went with him.

Don turned back to Charlie. His brother didn't seem at all surprised, "Professional what, Charlie?"

Charlie looked at Don and then Harm, "Stuntmen. This was a movie." He waved a hand, "All these people are extras, still playing their parts."

"Charlie... " Don couldn't help shaking his head. He could see the look of disbelief on Harm's face as well. This was one of the wilder theories his brother had come up with.

"Think about it, Don," Charlie persisted. "This is LA. Independent film companies are everywhere. No one thinks twice about it."

"Megan was taking a random route back to the office. There wasn't time to stage some elaborate charade. It doesn't make sense, Charlie," Don countered with a frown. He'd assumed the kidnappers had been tailing his agents. A chase car reporting locations and a lead car keeping pace until an opportunity presented itself. He and his team had done the same thing on occasion.

"It probably wasn't that random anymore. We're fifteen minutes from the office, there's only so many routes left." Charlie turned towards David's SUV, "What if Megan and David were being tracked remotely? A computer could plot optimum points for an ambush."

Don's scowl deepened. If someone had managed to attach a GPS tracker to Megan's vehicle, it would have made it a hell of lot easier to pull this off. Would they have tagged David's, too? He started to walk towards the SUV when Colby and David came out of the crowd with a man in between them. He stopped and waited for his agents.

The little group halted in front of Don, Harm and Charlie. "This is Travis Ortega, professional stuntman." Colby looked at the man while gesturing towards Don, "Tell him what you told us."

Ortega shrugged a little, "I got a call this morning from my agent. Said he had a job that would pay twice the industry standard with a thousand dollar bonus if I could get here in less thirty minutes. It was kinda odd but what the hell, right? An extra thousand bucks?" He glanced uncertainly at Colby who gave him a 'go-on' look, "This film company, one of their guys got food poisoning or something and they needed someone right away. It wasn't that tough a gig except that they wanted it in one take and there wasn't time for a rehearsal. Stage a fight in the street and stop traffic." He shook his head, "They didn't tell me they were going to cut it that close with that first vehicle. I damn near pissed my pants."

"What about the guy you were fighting with?" Don folded his arms. This was unbelievable.

Ortega shrugged again, "Younger dude, never saw him before. They wanted a wrestling match more than a punchfest, so that made it easier. I told the guy to follow my lead. He was pretty good." He looked around the scene, frowning a little at Harm, "This whole thing's been pretty realistic. Marty said the company was filming an anti-terrorism training film for local cops. How does the Navy fit in?"

"They don't. This wasn't a training film," Don growled, ignoring how the man blanched. His mind was racing. How could this have been thrown together so quickly? "Who's your agent?"

"M-Marty Stubbens, with Sewati, Ltd. This wasn't a training film? Oh my god," Ortega scrubbed both hands through his close-cropped hair. "Am I in trouble? I swear, I didn't know."

"I'll need you to tell Agent Granger everything you can remember about this," Don glanced away for a moment and then looked back at the man, "These people aren't afraid to kill. I don't think you should go home for now. Do you have family here?" When Ortega numbly shook his head, Don gave Colby a look. Granger nodded and led the man off, already talking.

There was still the time factor. Don turned to David, "Were there any sort of delays before you reached this point?"

Sinclair nodded slowly, "Yeah, about three blocks back. An accident that had traffic stopped in both directions. A radio car was already here. An ambulance showed up about ten minutes later." He glanced in the direction Colby had gone, "We were sweating bullets for a while but nothing happened."

"Did you talk to the cops?" Harm asked. Who the hell were they dealing with?

"Colby did but it was pretty quick. They were busy. Some guy went through the stop sign and t-boned the other car. Dude ran off afterwards." David shook his head in self-disgust, "I was more concerned about an ambush right then. I didn't even think about it being a delaying tactic."

"You couldn't have known," Harm sounded resigned as he turned to look at people clustered here and there. His eyes narrowed. They had the answers he needed even if they didn't know it. Excusing himself, he strode purposely towards the crowd.

Unknown location,

1310 Local

"Sarah? Sarah, can you hear me? You need to wake up."

Mac turned her head, squeezing her eyes a little more tightly shut. Awful didn't even begin to describe how she felt.

"Is she still out? Damn, that's not good. Mac? Wake up."

"No," Mac mumbled. Her head was splitting. If she could just get back to sleep -

"COLONEL MACKENZIE! SNAP TO!!"

That forced Mac's eyes open, a move she immediately regretted. Slowly, she put her hands up to her head and winced when she touched the left side of her forehead, "Oh god," Mac breathed carefully, it felt like the skin on her head was two sizes too small.

"You've got a pretty nasty bump on your head, Sarah."

Cautiously, Mac turned towards the voice. Her eyes didn't seem to want to focus, "Where am I?"

"Still in LA but I couldn't tell you where exactly."

Mac closed her eyes again, keeping them open just made her head hurt more.

"Hey, hey, none of that. You have to stay awake for now. Come on, Mac, I thought Marines were tougher than that."

"Give it a rest, Kate," Mac groaned as she turned on her side. Bracing on an elbow, Mac tried to find a position that didn't make her head want to explode. A second later, she froze, realizing what she'd just said. The sudden tension sent another spasm of pain through her head and she barely managed to contain a moan. Suddenly something cold touched her forehead and the pain seemed to lessen.

"Gently, Sarah, you need to relax. We just want to help."

"Avis?" Mac whispered hesitantly. Slowly, she eased her eyes open again. Her eyesight was still blurry but there seemed to be a luminescence directly in front of her. A moment later, it split into two.

"Yes, I'm here with Kate. I want you to listen to us, Sarah. Can you do that?"

"Okay," Mac said softly, the cold had moved to the sides of her face. It felt wonderful.

"You have a concussion. You need to stay awake for a little while. We're going to help with that," Avis' voice took on a firm note. "It is too soon for you to join us. It would break Harm's heart."

Mac straightened a little at that. Harm! Avis was right, she couldn't do that to him. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself into a sitting position although she couldn't help staying hunched over. Coming upright had triggered a bout of nausea.

"There's a wall about two feet behind you," Kate's voice came from beside her.

Mac let her head dip a little lower in acknowledgment and began the slow process of moving backwards while trying not to upset her head or stomach any more. Several long minutes later, she carefully leaned against the wall, drawing her legs up so she could rest her arms and head on her knees. Slowly, she let her eyes travel around the small, empty room. The walls were bare with a single door directly across from her. It was dark except for the two hazy shapes that emitted a soft glow. "What happened?"

Kate's voice was matter-of-fact, "They wanted McKlellan and grabbed you as well."

Mac tensed a little and then winced at the increase in pain, "Megan?"

One of the shapes moved in beside her and something cold again touched her head. Avis' voice sounded close to her ear, "She was here. They took her out."

Mac sighed carefully. The cold was helping ease the pain in her head, "They need to know if McKlellan had already talked." Damn, once they found out the Petty Officer hadn't said anything yet, they would all be expendable.

"McKlellan's already dead," Kate spoke up from her spot in front of Mac.

Mac squinted at her, wishing her eyesight would clear up, "He's dead? How do you know?"

"Saw him - for a little bit anyway. He had a lot to answer for. They didn't let him stay long." Kate sounded uncomfortable.

"They?" That sounded omnious. Mac was beginning to feel uncomfortable, too. She had a few things to answer for in her life, as well.

Monday,

Liwanu Enterprises

Los Angeles, CA

1340 local

Bander drummed his fingers on desk and then picked up the folder Margery had brought him earlier. JohnnyD had called a couple of hours ago to let him know the operation had been a success. They had McKlellan and his escort. He'd been surprised to learn that it had been the women with the Petty Officer. Johnny had taken them to one of the company warehouses that had been partially destroyed in a fire. It had been fenced off, with reconstruction due to begin next month. Should law enforcement somehow stumble across it, he could easily claim he'd had no knowledge of anything illegal. It was hard to wait while Johnny did what he had to do to get the information they needed. Bander had distracted himself with company business for a while but now he was getting antsy.

Opening the folder finally, he shuffled through the papers until he found the ones dealing with Megan Reeves and Sarah MacKenzie. Reeves' information hadn't yielded much that was unexpected. Friction with her father, a rather wild period during her teenage years before she apparently decided she'd had enough foolishness and settled down. Highly perceptive, she'd combined that talent with a lively intelligence and strong empathy to become one of the top profilers in the FBI. Bander wondered if Eppes knew just how lucky he was to have her on his team. Apparently, she'd turned down a plum assignment with the BAU to come out to LA. Bander tapped his chin thoughtfully, he hadn't planned on killing Reeves outright but that might have to change. She was dangerous.

Putting aside Reeves' dossier, he picked up MacKenzie's. After a few minutes, his eyes widened in surprise and he hit the intercom, "Margery? Would you come in here please?" She appeared quickly, her eyebrows raised in obvious inquiry. Bander tapped the paper, "The information on MacKenzie. You verified your sources?"

Margery drew herself up a little, "Of course, Mr. Bander. Is there a problem?" It wasn't like him to question her but she'd noticed he'd been edgy all morning. That usually meant he had some deal or other in the works that he wasn't completely sure would pan out. The Bear was intelligent but not infallible. She was aware that he'd been planning something on an extraordinary scale. Things must finally be in motion. Margery gave herself a moment to feel smug. She was pretty sure she had a good idea of what the overall scheme was even if she didn't know all the details. Years ago, when she'd first started putting the clues together, she'd been shocked by the very audaciousness. That had been followed by disbelief that such a plan could ever work. After that, she'd felt hurt and annoyed that he hadn't confided in her. It had taken the better part of a month and some very careful digging to finally realize that she was his contingency plan. If this failed, it could cost him everything, up to and including his life. The Bear had been fully aware of the potential consequences and been quietly restructuring his empire. If he went down, she would be blameless. There wouldn't be any sort of power struggle and she would take over everything. What he didn't know was that she had every intention of doing her best to bring his quest to eventual fruition. Their people deserved it.

Bander exhaled nosily, laying the folder down and tapping the paper again, "She's one of the people. One of us."

Margery nodded carefully. She'd seen that and dismissed it. The woman was obviously on the other side. "Her great-grandmother on her father's side. You know how that probably happened. She's never embraced that part of her heritage. The woman's career military, probably doesn't even know about it."

Bander shook his head, "It had to have been a marriage, not rape. Otherwise the child wouldn't have had the MacKenzie name. This changes things." He eyed Margery when she didn't say anything. It was her way of disagreeing. "I know that you know," he stated softly. At her surprised look, he added, "Don't let anyone else suspect. It has to be this way." When she nodded slowly, he gestured towards the door, "You'd better get back to your office. I don't want you hearing anything else for now." He watched her leave with a good deal of satisfaction. He'd known a few years back that she'd begun a careful investigation. Taking a calculated risk, he'd let her discover enough to decipher the gist of his plan. Her discretion and loyalty since then had been above reproach. Margery was turning into a formidable woman. He would leave his empire in exceptionally capable hands.

He returned to his study of MacKenzie's history, frowning thoughtfully. Killing her was out of the question, now. He would not knowingly cause the death of one of the people. There'd been too much of that in their history. She could still be useful as a diversion. Bander was startled out of his thoughts by the ringing of his private line. He picked up the handset, "Yes?"

"Mr. Bander? JohnnyD. I've taken care of the rat problem for you. We're good." He paused a bit, "About the housecleaning? How much do you want done?"

Bander frowned in irritation. Johnny occasionally got caught up in the excitement of his work and started sounding like a bad spy movie. "This is a secure line, Johnny. Stop with the euphemisms. What have you learned?"

Sounding a little sullen, Johnny replied, "McKlellan didn't tell them anything. He wanted a deal in place before he opened his mouth. I slit his throat. What do you want done with the women?" He mentally crossed his fingers, hoping Bander would agree to kill them as well. It would be less complicated.

"Hold on to them for now," Bander ordered. "They may be useful later."

Damn. "Um, Mr. Bander? About that - ," JohnnyD rubbed the back of his neck a little nervously, "The military chick's acting weird. We might have hit her a bit too hard."

Bander sat up straighter, "What do you mean? What's she doing?" Dammit, it would complicate the hell out of things if she needed medical attention.

Johnny hesitated, not sure if he could explain it right, "Well, she's talking to herself, only it sounds like she's talking to an invisible friend - you know, like kids do. It's kinda weird."

"What's she saying?" Bander rubbed his jaw, feeling inexplicably nervous.

There was another pause before Johnny finally said, "The usual stuff - where is she? what happened? But she's talking to thin air and acting like it's answering."

"You've been recording?"

"Yeah, sure, but it's not as clean as we usually get. There's a lot of noise on it." Johnny was a firm believer in CYA and being upfront with Bear Bander was the best way to do it.

"I need to hear it. Take care of it for me, Johnny," Bander stated flatly. He paused for a second, "And Johnny? Don't harm the women, either one - is that clear?" After listening to Johnny's assurances, he hung up the phone and then got up to pace. Years and years ago, when he was a small boy, his mother had taken him to a medicine woman of the tribe. He'd been scared and fascinated at the same time. The old woman had told his mother that he would accomplish things none of the people had even considered possible in hundreds of years but he had to remain true to himself. He'd never forgotten and he'd also learned over the years to trust his instincts. They were screaming caution at him right now. Who or what was the MacKenzie woman? He had to know.

Unknown location,

1350 Local

"How's she doing?" Mac asked quietly. The door had opened seventeen minutes ago and a powerful spotlight had hit her in the face, effectively blinding her once more. It had also upped the pain in her head a couple of notches, immobilizing her as well. It had taken a good six minutes of careful, steady breathing to quell the nausea. Kate had waited until then to tell her Megan had been returned. The agent was unconscious and Kate's opinion was that she'd been drugged. Mac was going by that premise. There was no way she could check for herself, not in her condition.

"Still out. How are you feeling?" Kate's voice moved closer to Mac's left and then cold touched the side of her head. Mac sighed gratefully. After discovering that touching produced a cold spot, Avis and Kate had been taking turns. Apparently, it was draining for them. Neither could maintain it for more than a minute at a time. Mac was happy with anything she could get that helped reduce the pain.

"Better," Mac blinked slowly a couple of times. The afterimage of the spotlight was still filling her vision, "Can't see anything."

"There's not much to look at," Kate retorted wryly. Mac settled for a smile, laughing hurt.

"The building's abandoned." Avis' voice spoke up. "There was a fire. Can you smell the char?"

Mac inhaled slowly, trying to concentrate on scent rather than how much her head hurt. There - it was faint but there. "Yeah, I can smell it - barely. The fire must have been a while ago." She turned her attention to the last spot she'd heard Kate, "Is this part of the vision you've been showing me?"

"Not really," Kate sounded a little reluctant. "It is what it is. A building that had a fire."

"You said 'rebirth'. I still don't understand," Mac decided this was as good a subject as any to keep herself awake.

"You really need to figure that out on your own," Kate countered, "Otherwise, how will you explain it? A ghost told you?"

"Stick-in-the-mud," Mac said it without rancor. Kate had a point. She brought up a hand to carefully rub her face, "Do hints count?"

"It has to do with your heritage," Avis offered.

"But you said earlier that it didn't have to do with Islamic terrorists, so how can my grandmother being Iranian matter?" Mac was feeling slightly exasperated.

"Oh for pity's sake, Mac, you've got more than one parent. Think about it." Kate was sounding somewhat exasperated as well.

Mac's eyes widened slightly, "My great-grandmother on the MacKenzie side was Cherokee. You're saying the man behind all this is a native American?"

- - - -

Outside the room, JohnnyD straightened up as he pulled off the headphones and reached for his cell. Bander was going to freak.

...1134903170, 1836311903, 2971215073...


	22. Chapter 22

Once again, I apologize for the delay in posting this. Unfortunately, I do most of my writing on the weekends and these last two were occupied by competitions. (For those of you who might be wondering, I fence and the season's getting into full swing.) I know I warned y'all that this would probably be late but I was hoping to get it up sooner. It's a bit shorter than the other chapters but I didn't want to go two full weeks without posting something. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Chapter 22

FBI Headquarters

Los Angeles, CA

1410 Local

Harm's eyes narrowed as he stared at the files in front of him. It had been a little over three hours since the abduction. He was trying not to think about it, trying not to let it consume him. Mac was more than capable of taking care of herself and he didn't doubt Megan was just as good. Harm was well aware how easy it would have been to kill both women to get to McKlellan. Whoever had done this had wanted them alive and it was too soon to be reversing that decision. That would change eventually. He shot a glance around the room. Everyone was silent as they pursued various avenues and the tension was palpable. They were all aware that time was an enemy.

Exhaling softly, Harm focused once again on the computer screen. He'd been going over the witness statements. Of the ten or so that had actually seen the abduction, most thought they'd been extras in a movie. A man, who'd been alternately described as tall, short, hispanic, asian and arab, wearing a red, blue or black t-shirt and jeans, had paid them $50 to stay in the area and look surprised. The remaining people who'd witnessed the abduction had either been too scared to talk or had literally looked the other way to avoid getting involved. The truck driver who'd blocked Granger and Sinclair's view said he'd thought it was something gang-related and had ducked down under the dash.

Considering how fast this operation had to have been pulled together, Harm was having a hard time buying the premise that that many people, when approached on the street, would have agreed to hang around for fifty bucks and the chance to be in a documentary film. Perhaps half might have had nothing better to do but the rest? It was a workday. Only two people had claimed to have been unemployed. One was a stay-at-home mom and the other was a college student. Something odd was going on and Harm was delving further into their backgrounds. It seemed like a random group but as he dug deeper, a disturbing trend was surfacing.

"Commander? Are you okay?"

Charlie's voice broke his concentration and Harm looked up to see the younger Eppes watching him closely. He leaned back in his chair, attempting to stretch the muscles in his back. From the way they felt, he'd been crouched in front of the computer for too long. Absently reaching up to massage his shoulder, Harm gave Charlie a considering look and then pushed back from the computer, "Come take a look at this and tell me what you think."

Charlie leaned in and peered at the screen. After a minute or so, his eyebrows rose and he looked back at Harm, "May I add this to the other data?" At Harm's nod, Charlie's fingers flew over the keyboard. He finished a short time later and moved back to his laptop and another spate of intense typing. That was enough to draw the attention of Don, Colby and David.

Don went over to stand by his brother, "What have you got, Charlie?"

Charlie glanced up, "It's more what the Commander had but now I can tie some other anomalies together. Give me another minute or two." Don nodded and drew back, throwing a glance at Harm who shrugged in return.

"Okay, look at this," Charlie looked up at the larger screen as he continue to type. A diagram began to appear.

"It looks like a family tree," Colby muttered in an aside to David.

"It is - in a way," Charlie grinned at the two agents and typed in a final line. The words 'Liwanu Enterprises' appeared at the top. Charlie got up to stand by the screen and gestured at the smaller branches towards the bottom. "These are 95% of the witnesses to the abduction. There's a variety of age groups, ethnicities and professions but," he paused for a second and pointed towards the top of the chart, "All of them are affiliated in some way with Liwanu Enterprises."

"Liwanu Enterprises?" Don frowned, "Who are they? Anyone ever hear of it?"

There was a round of head-shaking and then Colby stood up and headed for his desk, "I'll find out."

Harm looked over at Don in grim satisfaction, "We're getting closer."

Unknown location

1420 Local

A soft voice was the first thing Megan became aware of as she drifted back towards consciousness. She'd tensed initially and then relaxed as she identified the voice as female. Her interrogator had been male. As her mind cleared a bit more, Megan realized it was Mac she was hearing. The relief helped alleviate another chunk of haziness. With an effort, Megan managed to get her eyes open. Blinking a couple of times, she exhaled softly. Her vision was still screwed up. A moment later, she realized moving wasn't much of an option either. Whatever they'd injected, it was still affecting her body. Her arms and legs felt impossibly heavy.

Letting her eyes close again, Megan focused on breathing slowly and evenly as she took inventory. Her jaw was still sore and her shoulder ached but nothing else seemed damaged - and she was still alive. That was somewhat of a surprise. Gradually, she became aware that Mac was still talking. She concentrated on listening and then frowned in confusion. It sounded like the Colonel was talking to someone but she couldn't hear the other side of the conversation. Had their captors missed a cell phone? Was help on the way?

Forcing her eyes open once again, Megan tried calling Mac's name but wound up coughing instead. Flat on her back, the coughing grew worse and suddenly Megan couldn't get enough air. Gasping in between coughs, her sense of panic grew as her body refused her efforts to turn onto her side. Megan barely heard Mac's voice calling her name. Without warning, something lifted her shoulder and shoved her onto her side. It was gone almost as quickly as it came. At that moment, Megan hardly cared. She could breathe again.

"Megan? Are you alright?" The worry in Mac's voice was evident.

She was far from alright but Megan managed to lift her head slightly and rasp out, "Yeah." Putting her head back down, she couldn't help muttering, "Relatively speaking." To her surprise, she heard Mac chuckle a few seconds later.

"Everything's relative, isn't it? How are you really?"

Megan frowned, either the Colonel had exceptionally good hearing or she'd spoken louder than she thought. She tilted her head a little, "It feels like I went a round with Mike Tyson, I can barely move and um," she hesitated for a second, "I can't see."

Damn, what had those bastards done to the agent? "I'm sorry," Mac offered quietly. She was silent for a few moments, suddenly remembering the bright flash that blinded her during the ambush. The afterimage had obscured her vision long enough for her attacker to take her out but it had been gone by the time she'd finally regained consciousness. Megan must have been hit by the light more often. This was a development Mac hadn't counted on. Even if they were given a chance to escape, neither one was in a position to take advantage of it, "Can't see anything at all or is it more like the spots you get from staring at a light bulb?"

"Spots," Megan turned her head towards the sound of Mac's voice. The Colonel sounded like she'd moved back to the far corner. That had been quick. Well, at least one of them was capable of escaping. Mindful that the room might be bugged, Megan kept her voice down to a whisper, "Mac? If you get a chance to get out of here, I want you to take it. I don't think they'll do anything to me. If they wanted me dead, it would have happened already."

There was nearly a minute of silence and Megan was beginning to think the JAG officer hadn't heard her when, to her surprise, Mac chuckled softly. In a rueful tone, she continued, "I appreciate the sacrifice but I'm not going anywhere." Before Megan could argue, Mac was quietly speaking again, "I'm pretty sure I've got a concussion. My head's pounding so hard I thought you could hear it and every time I move, it's a new adventure in nausea. I don't think I can stand, much less walk."

Crap. Megan listened in dismay and then frowned, feeling somewhat confused. She turned her head a little more towards Mac and was relieved to find it a bit easier. Maybe the drug was beginning to wear off. She focused on the Colonel again, "I don't understand. How did you get me on my side earlier?"

Her sense of confusion grew when Mac hesitated and then simply said, "That wasn't me."

Unknown location,

1420 Local

JohnnyD rubbed his neck as he finally hung up the phone. He'd been right on the money when he'd predicted Bander would freak, although the Bear's 'freaking' and other people's 'freaking' were vastly different. Bander had gotten coldly methodical, firing off questions almost faster than Johnny could answer. The true measure of just how rattled the man was, was that he was coming to the warehouse to personally speak to the JAG officer. Johnny would have to take extra care with security. No one could know it was Bander, not even his people.

He pulled out his radio, "Randy? You there?" Receiving an affirmative, Johnny clicked the talk button again, "I've got someone coming to speak with our guests. Let me know when the guy gets here and then make yourself scarce for a couple of hours. Make sure Ralph knows, too. This dude is dangerous as hell and doesn't like being watched. I don't want to open the paper tomorrow and read about pieces of you two washing up on the beach." Johnny grinned to himself at Randy's considerably more nervous affirmative. That should take care of Bander's approach.

He keyed his radio again, "Eddy? Benji? I need you guys over here." A few minutes later, JohnnyD looked up as his men walked over. He sat back in his chair and waved a hand at the room confining the two women, "I've got a guy coming in so I'm going to need the military broad over in our 'interrogation' room. Go get her and take her over there. I'll take over once she's there and you guys take off for a couple of hours. The guy coming in values his privacy and I don't want him coming after you because you saw something you shouldn't, okay?" Benji and Eddy looked at each other and then nodded. Benji picked up the spotlight and as they turned towards the holding room, Johnny added, "We're not supposed to hurt either one so make sure any marks you leave aren't visible. Understand?"

The taller man, Benji, nodded once more and then turned back to watch as Eddy undid the padlock on the door. Once they'd opened the door and entered, JohnnyD stood up and stretched. He needed to make sure their interrogation area was secure for Mr. Bander. He'd only taken a couple of steps when all hell broke loose behind him. Pivoting, he sprinted back to the room just as Benji crashed through the doorway. Stepping over the prone man, Johnny looked into the room and froze in shock.

- - -

Megan was about to question Mac further when there was a rattling sound at the door. A few moments later, the door opened and the room suddenly got brighter. Megan blinked rapidly a couple of times, trying to make out what was going on. Vainly, she wished she could see something, anything. She heard a man's voice roughly order, "On your feet, bitch." and realized that this time, they were after Mac. There was a scuffling noise, followed by Mac's protest and the man telling her to shut up. A few moments later, there was the unmistakable sound of retching accompanied by a string of colorful swearing from the man. Afraid of what might happen next, Megan opened her mouth at say something when all hell broke loose.

The temperature in the room suddenly plunged a good thirty degrees and then she heard a crash and a scream from the man. The room went dark for a few seconds and then brightened again but the light was different somehow. Then Megan heard a woman's voice that raised the hair on the back of her neck.

"GET OUT!"

Johnny stared at the glowing figure of a woman that hovered above huddled form of the JAG officer. The air seemed to crackle and snap angrily around the apparition. Eddy was up against the side wall, his eyes riveted in terror on the woman. His mouth moving silently, Eddy's eyes widened even further as a cannonball of light suddenly appeared and flew at him. He let out a strangled cry and his eyes rolled up in his head as the ball hit him and disappeared. A moment later, his limp body was flung away from the wall to land at Johnny's feet.

Shivering uncontrollably, Johnny automatically reached down for Eddy, his eyes never leaving the woman. With every passing moment, she seemed to be growing brighter, larger and unmistakably angrier. When the ball of light appeared again, that was all it took. Johnny grabbed Eddy and dragged him out as fast as he could. Once they'd cleared the entry, the door slammed shut. Shaking badly, Johnny leaped forward and slapped the padlock back in place.

"Mary, Mother of God, what was that?"

Johnny looked over to see Benji sitting up, rubbing his left shoulder. The arm on that side was hanging limply. Johnny numbly shook his head and turned his attention to Eddy. The man's face was ashen and he was cold to the touch. Benji made his way over and looked at his partner in horror, "Oh god, is he dead? What happened?"

Johnny put his hand on Eddy's neck and felt a slight pulse. He looked over at Benji, "He's still alive but I think he's in shock." He raked a trembling hand through his hair, "What the hell did you two do?"

Benji grew a bit paler, "We were getting the military broad, like you said. I held the light on her so she couldn't see us while Eddy told her to get up. She wouldn't do it, said something I couldn't hear and then Eddy grabbed her by the arm and yanked her up. She puked almost as soon as he did and I guess she got his shoes or something cause he started swearing and umm, kinda threw her." Benji shifted uncomfortably, his hand going up to his shoulder again, "I think he was about to kick her when all of the sudden, the place felt like a freezer and this ball of light appeared. It knocked Eddy against a wall and then hit me. Man, it was like getting hit with an ice spear or something. I dropped the light and went flying out the door." He shook his head, "I don't remember much else until you came out with Eddy." He looked at Johnny with wide eyes, "What did you see? What happened to Eddy?"

Johnny couldn't help the shiver that chased itself down his neck as he shot a nervous glance at the door. Whatever the hell that was in there, he didn't think a door would stop it if it felt like coming out. As if to bear out his thought, a mist seemed to ooze from under the door. Swearing, he lunged for Eddy. "Help me!" he snapped at Benji who was staring open-mouthed at the mist. The big man shut his mouth with snap and scrambled forward. Together, they grabbed the unconscious man and stumbled away as fast as they could.

- - -

"Sarah? Can you hear me?" Avis hovered over the Marine Colonel who was sprawled on her side near the wall. She looked up when Kate appeared, "Are they gone?"

"For now," Kate was still radiating anger. "Bastards."

"Mac? What's going on? Can you hear me?"

Kate and Avis looked at each other and then at Megan who was making a concerted effort to get off the floor. When Avis raised a questioning eyebrow, Kate shook her head, "Helping her sit up won't do much if she doesn't have enough muscle control to stay there. She's going to have to work through this on her own." She turned her attention back to Mac, "How bad is it?"

"I think she fainted. She's still breathing as far as I can see," Avis was a study in frustration. She reached down and touched Mac's forehead. After a few moments, she was rewarded with a soft moan.

Kate settled down on the floor, "Mac? Are you awake?" She reached out a hand and put it on the side of Mac's face, "C'mon, MacKenzie, rise and shine."

"Mac? Are you alright? Answer me - please."

Kate glanced over her shoulder to see that Megan had managed to push herself into a sitting position against the wall. She didn't look all that steady but it was progress.

" ... stop ... yelling." Mac's voice was barely audible but it was enough to get the attention of all three. Avis and Kate exchanged relieved looks.

FBI Headquarters

Los Angeles, CA

1440 Local

Colby walked back into the conference room and moved to an open laptop, "You guys aren't going to believe this." He quickly tapped out several commands and Charlie's diagram was joined by the photo of two older men smiling and shaking hands. "The guy on the right is California Senator Berenstein and the other guy is Carson Uzumati Bander, founder and chairman of Liwanu Enterprises." He looked at the others, "Bander is half Native American, of the Miwok tribe from here in California. 'Uzumati' is Miwok for 'bear' and 'Liwanu' means 'growl of the bear'."

"Okay," Don acknowledged, sharing a glance with David and Harm, "I'm guessing this is significant... ?"

Colby raised an eyebrow, "Travis Ortega's agent, Marty Stubbens, works for Sewati, Ltd. Sewati is Miwok for 'curved bear claw'."

"So is there a definite link?" David asked. "Because I don't think we'll get far with a judge just because the names both mean bear."

"They're linked," Charlie spoke up as he typed. "And there's more. I set up an algorithm to filter through all the data from the witness backgrounds - their families, jobs, churches, education, etc." He leaned back to look from Don to Harm, "Every one of those witnesses is part Native American and, as I mentioned before, they all have some sort of connection to Liwanu."

"Indian," Harm snapped his fingers as he looked at Don, "Rambo said the guy watching the hotel was Indian. We were thinking about Naser but I'll bet he meant Indian as in Native American."

Nodding, Don looked back at Colby, "What do we know about Bander?"

"He's a powerful dude; started out with nothing and made his first million in real estate. He parlayed that into Liwanu Enterprises. Apparently, he's never met a business he couldn't turn a profit with." Colby leaned back against a desk, "It looks like he's got connections everywhere. Liwanu Enterprises is big in a lot of communities. They sponsor youth clubs, local sports teams, free clinics and other local charities all over the city. Bander's put together a huge grassroots following and he knows how to use it. He dabbles in politics but only from behind the scenes. His friends describe him as generous to a fault and a brilliant businessman, his enemies aren't quite so charitable. He considers himself a Native American, ignores the fact he's half-white."

Harm scowled thoughtfully, "He fits for our puppetmaster. He's rich and if there's one group that's got an on-going grievance with the US government, it would be the Native Americans." Years ago, when the case about Jimmy Blackhorse had been resolved, he'd done some extracurricular reading about the plight of the Indians. It had been an eye-opening education. When he'd casually brought the subject up with Mac, he'd found that she was already aware of some of the history. Being part Cherokee had been the catalyst for her research years earlier.

Don looked grim, "I think we need to pay a call on Mr. Bander."

"Is that a good idea?" Harm frowned. "If this is our guy, then he's got Mac, Megan and McKlellan stashed somewhere. We make him think we're getting close and he might just cut his losses."

Don rubbed the back of his neck. Harm had a point but right now, Bander was their best lead, not only for the kidnapping but the terrorist cell as well. Don hadn't lost sight of that particular problem. "Okay, okay, let's try this from another angle." He looked at David and Colby, "Let's say he is behind the abduction. He's got to have them somewhere. Let's go over the Liwanu holdings and see if there's any place that seems likely."

"Obviously, it would have to be isolated or unoccupied. I can help narrow the search," Charlie offered.

Don's cell phone rang just then. He glanced at the ID just before he flipped it open. It was Lt. Walker from the LAPD. Hopefully, he had something good to report. "Eppes. Yeah, what's up, Gary?" Don straightened suddenly, "You did? Where? Uh-huh, yeah, I know the place. Okay, I'll be there in a few. Thanks, man, I owe you one." He ended the call and looked up to see the others watching, "That was Lt. Walker. A radio car just found Megan's SUV." Don looked at Harm, "You coming?"

"Hell, yes." Harm grabbed his cover as he stood up. Maybe this was the break they needed.


	23. Chapter 23

Christmas cards, Christmas baking, Christmas shopping... there's not enough hours in the day during this season. For those who celebrate, Merry Christmas to you all; for the rest, Peace and Happiness in the coming New Year! Thank you to all who reviewed - each one is a gift. Hope you enjoy this latest offering. We're getting into the home stretch but it's hard to say how many more chapters - these stories seem to take on a life of their own.

Chapter 23

Monday,

Unknown location

1440 Local

Megan's head came up when she heard Mac's voice. She'd managed to brace herself against the wall with her knees up and her arms folded across the top. From there, she'd been resting her head on her forearms. Megan leaned back against the wall. The effort of sitting had taken a lot out of her, it would be a while before she moved that much again. The profiler kept her voice soft, "Mac?"

Mac groaned as she carefully rolled onto her back, "Megan? What just happened?"

"That's a good question," Megan closed her eyes, trying to sort out everything she'd heard. "How much do you remember?"

"A light." Cold touched her forehead, easing some of the ache and Mac breathed a nearly silent 'thank you' to the faint shimmering beside her. She was fairly certain it was Avis although she couldn't pinpoint an exact reason for her conclusion.

Megan rubbed the side of her face and shivered a little. It was still cold in the room; not nearly as frigid as it had become but colder than it'd been before the door had opened. It didn't make sense. Of course, not much of the last twenty minutes or so made sense. What the hell had happened and who'd told those men to get out? Megan shivered again, tightening her grip around her knees. That voice had made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

"Megan? You okay?"

"Yeah," Megan kept her eyes closed as she concentrated on listening. She could hear the faint shuffling as Mac moved but not much else. It wasn't just the room that was quiet. There weren't any traffic sounds either, so this building wasn't in a busy area, "Do you remember the man that grabbed you?

"It's kind of blurry," Mac frowned as she thought. She remembered indistinct yelling and then nauseating pain. "What did he want?"

"You, it sounded like, at least until you barfed on him," Megan hesitated. They were getting to the part she couldn't figure out.

"I did?" Well, that explained the nasty aftertaste in her mouth. It didn't explain why she was still in the room. "And that stopped him? Maybe I should have tried it sooner."

"Umm, that made him drop you but it wasn't what stopped him," Megan rubbed her arms trying to generate some warmth. Her movements were still clumsy but at least her body was obeying her commands again.

Mac was silent for a few moments, hearing the reluctance in Megan's voice. "So what did?"

"We did." Kate's voice came from over by the door. "That son of a... That SOB was about to lay into you." Her voice turned admiring, "You should have seen Avis. She looked like the Wrath of God - scared the hell out of them."

"They saw her?" Startled, Mac spoke louder than she meant to.

"It was Kate who actually threw them out," Avis spoke up, obviously not willing to take full credit.

"She did?" Mac turned her head to where she'd last heard Kate, "You did? How? I didn't think... I mean..."

"I'm not quite sure either, to tell you the truth," Kate admitted. "I was incredibly angry. I think that helped."

"Mac? Who are you talking to?" Megan's tone was cautiously neutral.

Unknown location

1425 Local

Bander pulled his ballcap a little lower as he strolled down the cracked and crumbling sidewalk. He'd had his driver let him out about six blocks away. He knew it made his security people crazy but it gave him a chance to study the area and blend in. Bander took a surreptitious look around. There were a few people about, none of whom were paying the least attention to him. JohnnyD wouldn't be expecting him this soon and the Bear preferred it that way. It wasn't that he didn't trust Johnny but he'd learned over the years that unexpected appearances gave him a truer picture of what was actually going on. Bander shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of the old Dodgers windbreaker he was wearing. Events weren't playing out as he'd anticipated and he didn't like it much. This development with the MacKenzie woman was unsettling. For the first time since he'd conceived his plan, doubt was creeping in about the goals he was trying to achieve. What if this woman had the sight? Was this a sign that the spirits were becoming displeased or was she the confirmation that the apocalypse he was about to unleash had their blessing? Bander shook his head and picked up his pace a little more. The warehouse had finally come into view and he would have his answers soon enough.

Reaching the fence that surrounded the property, Bander took another look around. No one was is sight. He walked a little further down the block until he reached a section of fence that had a strip of faded construction tape tied to it. Glancing around one more time, Bander peeled the chainlink away from the post and slid through. Putting the fence back, he slowly approached the portion of the warehouse that was still standing. Hurrying would attract more attention than not, so he kept his pace leisurely. After a minute or so, he was standing in the shadow of an entryway. No one was in sight but that didn't mean they weren't there. Johnny was never lax about security. Pulling out his cellphone, he hit the speed dial and waited.

After a minute, he scowled in annoyance and flipped it shut. Something was wrong. It couldn't be the police or the place would be looking like a demented Christmas tree. Law enforcement seemed unable to function without dozens of flashing lights. What could have happened? Bander moved further into the building, senses on high alert. Taking a moment to let his eyes adjust to the semi-darkness, he listened intently. At first, all he could hear was the usual creaks and groans of the building but then he thought he could hear voices. Quietly, he made his way in that direction, taking care to stay in the shadows when possible. It was further away then he thought it would be. The acoustics in the remains of the building were deceiving. After five minutes of walking, it was hard to tell if he was any closer. Bander stopped and listened again. Nothing. Removing his hat, he scrubbed an irritated hand through his hair. Where the hell was Johnny?

He was just about to give up the stealthy approach and yell for Johnny when screams and shouts erupted off to his right. Bander gave a startled jump and then cursed at his reaction. Resolutely, he turned towards the noise, skirting several large machines that had been obscuring his view. Down a corridor came the soft glow of electrical lights and Bander hurried towards them. He'd gone about fifty feet when the sound of hurrying feet reached him. Automatically, he pulled into the shadows and waited. Two men appeared, dragging a third and Bander's eyes widened in surprise when he realized the man on the right was JohnnyD. The other two he didn't know. He stepped out into the light, "Johnny!"

Nearly in unison, Johnny and Benji jumped and turned towards the figure that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, dropping Eddy in the process. Johnny had his pistol out and extended in less than a heartbeat, held in a shaking hand. Bullets were no use against what they were facing but he had to do something. Slightly behind him, Benji had sunk to his knees while frantically sketching the sign of the Cross.

"Johnny!" Bander threw up his hands in shock. He'd seen the younger man happy, sad, angry and, on occasion, impossibly drunk but never in outright terror before. "Johnny, it's me! Calm down!"

Johnny blinked as he slowly lowered his pistol, "Sir?" He drew a shaky breath, "S-sorry. I - uh, I thought... " He dwindled off uncomfortably. How the hell did he explain to a man like the Bear what he'd just been through? Bander would think he was nuts.

Bander glanced past Johnny to the other man who was still on his knees and tugged his ballcap down a bit lower. He looked back at Johnny, "What happened?"

Johnny swallowed nervously. You didn't lie to the Bear - ever - but how was he going to explain this? Glancing back over his shoulder at Benji and Eddy, Johnny moved a few steps away. Bander followed silently, obviously waiting for an answer. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Dammit, he could still feel himself trembling. He looked down at the floor, unable to meet Bander's eyes, "I'm not sure I can explain it."

Bander stared at the younger man, "Look at me." When Johnny raised his eyes, Bander softened his tone, "Just say it."

Nodding slowly, Johnny reluctantly went over everything he'd seen and heard. Finally finished, he braced himself for the reaction. It wasn't long in coming.

"Idiots!" Bander spat out, his face suffused in anger. He saw Johnny flinch and put out a hand, "Not you." Turning a hard gaze towards Benji and Eddy, he gestured angrily, "Those two! There was a reason I told you not to harm the women!" He took a menacing step towards them and jabbed a finger at Eddy, "Is he dead?" When Benji numbly shook his head, Bander's frown deepened, "He deserves to be, you both do. Get out of here and don't come back." He turned to Johnny, "Let's go."

Johnny stared at him, "Sir?" Bander couldn't possibly want to go back there, could he?

Bander eyed the reluctant man, "I need to talk to MacKenzie. She's one of us. I want her on our side."

"But - but," Johnny stuttered slightly, his eyes widening at Bander's words. Whatever was back there was dangerous and he didn't think it was something that could be reasoned with. He couldn't believe that that military broad was somehow responsible. If that had been the case, their operation to grab McKlellan would have failed when they grabbed the women as well. No, it made more sense that those... things were connected to the land or the building somehow and that Eddy and Benji were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Hell, maybe both women were already dead, killed by whatever it was. Johnny snorted inwardly. He also couldn't believe he was actually having this sort of conversation with himself. He was proud of his heritage, proud to be a Dog Soldier but that didn't mean he believed in all the old ways. Mysticism wasn't his thing.

"Let's go." Bander's voice was laced with steel. He pointed up the corridor towards the glow of lights, "That way, correct?" When Johnny nodded, he began to walk. After a second or two, Johnny hurried after him.

- - - - -

Mac stiffened slightly at Megan's question. Dammit, that had been stupid. Now how was she going to explain without sounding completely nuts?

"Tell her," Avis's voice was whisper-soft, "She needs to know and quickly."

Mac's eyes widened in alarm, she'd heard that particular tone before. Could a ghost still be psychic? "Why? What do you know?"

Megan stared in the Colonel's direction in annoyance. What kind of answer was that? Her expression shifted to concern a moment later. Exactly how serious was Mac's head injury? Was she hallucinating? "Mac? Are you okay? Do you know where we are?"

Oh, great. Megan had asked those last questions in a tone that was probably reserved for skittish kittens... and crazy people. Carefully, Mac turned on her side and slowly levered herself upright. She closed her eyes as a feeling of lightheadedness swept through. It eased after a few seconds. She kept her eyes closed, waiting for the nausea to start. When it didn't, Mac breathed a quiet sigh of relief and opened her eyes again. Although, she couldn't see either Kate or Avis, somehow she knew they were both close. Gently resting her head in her hand, Mac looked in Megan's direction, "Not a clue, do you?"

Megan relaxed a little. Mac's somewhat acerbic response had sounded more normal. "In a warehouse, I think, probably still in LA."

"Hush," Mac hissed softly when Kate muttered 'duh'. Louder, she said, "There's been a fire. You can still smell the char."

Pausing, Megan sniffed the air, "You're right, I hadn't noticed." What she had noticed was that Mac hadn't answered her initial question. "Mac, who were you speaking to earlier?"

"You have to tell her," Avis' voice was becoming more insistent, "Right now."

Mac sighed wearily. There was no way in the world Megan was going to believe what she had to say. "Fine," she muttered. Steeling herself, she began, "Do you believe in ghosts?"

"Excuse me?" Megan's eyebrows rose in surprise.

Mac cringed a bit at the agent's incredulous tone. Gamely, she persisted, "Ghosts, spirits - do you believe in them?"

"Are we talking Casper-type ghosts or Amityville Horror-type ghosts?" There was dry amusement feathering the edges of Megan's response.

This was not going well and Mac was beginning to feel exasperated, "Just answer the question."

"Why?" Megan scrubbed at her forehead. There was an odd heaviness to the air that was making her uncomfortable. "What could my beliefs in the supernatural have any bearing on?"

"We're not alone in here."

"What?" Megan blinked a couple of times in a vain attempt to clear her eyesight. "Are you serious? Who else is in here?" Oh hell, Mac's head injury must be worse than she thought. The room temperature seemed to drop another couple of degrees and Megan huddled in a little tighter on herself.

"There's two spirits with us - with me, actually," Mac held still waiting for Megan's reaction. God knew if their positions were reversed, she would have assumed the agent had lost her mind.

"Uh-huh."

There it was again, that tone that said don't upset the crazy person. Logically, she couldn't fault Megan for her skepticism but that didn't make it any easier to take. Mac scowled, her temper beginning to slip, "Dammit, stop patronizing me and look at the evidence!"

Megan opened her mouth to soothe the increasingly agitated JAG officer and then stopped. Evidence? What... Megan stiffened and then slowly turned her head towards Mac, "Earlier, when I was coughing so badly, how did you get back over there so quickly after getting me on my side?"

"I told you before, that wasn't me," Mac all but growled.

"But," Megan stopped for a moment and took a steadying breath, "Mac, when those men came in, I heard a woman's voice telling them to get out. Are you telling me - ?"

Finally. "That was Avis," Mac answered quietly. "She was a dear friend."

Megan was silent as she digested that piece of information. Ghosts. Mac was being followed by ghosts. Reeves shook her head slightly. It was ridiculous. Ghosts? Charlie would have field day with this. She cleared her throat, "You said there were two?"

Mac tensed, knowing Megan would probably read more into this than the simple truth, "Kate Todd is the other."

- - - -

South Central LA

1520 Local

"Eppes," Lt. Walker said by way of greeting as Don and Harm ducked under the tape and walked up to the SUV. LAPD's forensic unit was busily going over the interior. The Lieutenant jerked a thumb towards them, "Thought it'd help to get a jump on the evidence. You got any leads? Your brother doing his math thing yet?"

"We're working on it," Don stared at Megan's SUV for a moment longer and then glanced towards Harm, "This is Commander Rabb with JAG. His partner's Colonel Sarah MacKenzie. Harm, this is Lt. Gary Walker."

The two men shook hands. Don canted his head slightly, "You got a minute?"

Walker grinned sardonically, "For you, Eppes? Always." They moved further away from the activity around the truck. Walker folded his arms, "Whattaya need?"

"Ever hear of Liwanu Enterprises?" Harm asked. Walker reminded him of Gunny Walters, definitely not someone to jerk around.

Walker raised an eyebrow, "Sure, they do a lot of charity work around the city. I understand Backstoppers gets a sizable check from them every year, too. What's that got to do with a kidnapping?"

"Charlie's found a connection. We're not sure if it'll pan out. Have you ever heard of anything questionable being tied to them?" Don couldn't help glancing at the SUV again. It had been hours now and his worry was increasing. When those bastards discovered that McKlellan hadn't talked yet, they would probably kill all three.

Walker considered the question for a few seconds and then shook his head, "Can't say that I have but I know that the CEO, Bander, likes to dabble in local politics." His expression turned wry, "Can't do that these days without something questionable happening. Hang on a second." He turned to scan the various officers at the scene and then pointed to one, "That guy, Officer Aguilar, this is his beat. He'd know what's going on around here." The Lieutenant started towards the patrolman while Don and Harm fell in alongside.

"Aguilar," Walker called as they got nearer.

The officer turned around and waited for the group to approach, eyeing the two other men before focusing on his Lieutenant, "What can I do for you, Lt.?"

Walker stopped and waved a hand, "This is Don Eppes with the FBI and Commander Rabb with the Navy JAG. They've got a couple of questions for you."

Aguilar frowned a bit, "If it's about finding the SUV, I don't know that much. I just happened to run across it on my normal patrol. It was already abandoned."

"Do you run the same route every day?" Harm asked.

Aguilar nodded, "Usually, kind of depends on what the day brings - you know?"

Harm nodded and then glanced around the area, "I don't suppose you found anyone who saw it being left there?"

The officer shook his head, "No, but then who'd notice someone parking their car? There's shops in the area. It'd look normal."

Harm sighed, acknowledging the truth of that statement. Don spoke up, "Liwanu Enterprises, you heard of them?"

Aguilar looked at Don, "The Bear? Sure, he's a good guy. Makes my job a lot easier. His foundation funds the local community center, helps keep the kids off the street."

Don's eyebrows rose, "You've met him?"

"Once," the officer replied, "The community center kids decided that they wanted to start one of those city gardens for the neighborhood. You know, growing fresh vegetables for the local folks and turning the rest into a little park. They found a vacant lot, contacted the owner to see if he'd sell and then started a fund-raising drive to buy it. The Bear got wind of the project and offered to match funds. Then he got the owner to lower the price and the local council to slice through any red tape. He came out for the deed ceremony and donated another $5,000 to get reclamation started. Bander's a good guy."

Don and Harm exchanged glances and then Harm took over again, "Sounds like it. Kind of surprising that a big CEO would take that kind of interest in a little neighborhood. Is he from here originally?"

Aguilar shook his head, "No, I don't think so but I've heard the guy's Native American and I know there's about a dozen families or so in the area that are at least part Indian." He pointed to a storefront down the block, "There's an organization there that's kind of like a social center for them. Keeps track of the tribes, makes sure they stay in touch with other members, that sort of thing. They could probably answer your questions better."

"Okay, thanks," Harm nodded in appreciation. He and Don watched the officer return to his work and then looked at each other again. "This guy Bander sounds like he's ready to be canonized."

Don frowned, "Yeah, it does." He started towards the storefront Aguilar had indicated, "Why would someone like that turn around and sponsor terrorism? It doesn't make sense."

"Doesn't it?" Harm countered, "I'll bet this guy's beef is with the US government, not the local population. If you wanted to overthrow a government, wouldn't it make sense to get as many citizens on your side as possible?"

"He's planning a coup? That's nuts," Don stared at the JAG officer. "It'll never work."

"You sure about that?" Harm countered, "What if he's counting on a domino effect? Take over California and then see how fast other states decide it's a good idea?"

Don rubbed his chin, "Yeah - hell, Texas would probably follow in a heartbeat. They already think they're their own country. Damn, we could wind up in another Civil War." He pulled out his cellphone and punched in a number. He glanced at Harm as he waited a couple of seconds, "Charlie? Hey, are you still at the office? Okay, good - I've got a question for you. If someone were to try to overthrow the California government and secede from the US, what would their odds be of success, what would their primary targets be and how does Liwanu Enterprises fit into the scenario? ... Okay, technically that was three ... What? He is?" Don sighed a moment, "No, we're still tracking down leads. Tell him to hang in there, okay? Yeah ... good luck to you, too, bro." He snapped shut his phone and looked at Harm, "Larry showed up at the office, he just found out about Megan."

Harm's eyebrows rose, "Larry Fleinhart? The professor? They're a couple?"

Don grinned, "Colby says the same thing but yeah, they've been dating." He shrugged at Harm's incredulous look, "What can I say? Megan likes smart guys."

- - - - -

FBI Headquarters

Los Angeles, CA

1550 Local

Charlie closed his cellphone and looked over at Larry who was perched morosely on a chair, "Don says they're still following leads. We're going to find them."

Larry nodded slowly, "But will it be in time?"

Charlie opened his mouth and then closed it again. What could he say to that? He dove back into the data Colby was funneling to him on the Liwanu holdings, as well as its subsidiaries. The list was massive, spreading out like a huge spider web across California. He concentrated on the LA area, convinced that the kidnappers had remained close to home. Typing the finishing touches on his algorithm, Charlie applied it to the data and then sat back to wait. There was no telling how long it would take to filter through.

In the meantime, he would start on Don's questions. The whole theory sounded outlandish at first until he started thinking about it. Revolution happened when government failed its obligations and the citizenry grew outraged enough to take action. For generations, that action had taken place at the ballot box and it was hard to conceive that that solution might not work this time. The current atmosphere of the country was poised on a precipice. The economy was collapsing, politicians were fighting with each other rather than working towards compromise, the military was overextended, involved in an increasingly unpopular war that was bleeding billions from the Federal budget, natural disasters were stressing an already weakened infrastructure and, in case local citizens weren't paying attention, the media was gleefully reporting each debacle. Charlie moved to another computer and began calling up information. He needed to find the tipping point and the extent of Liwanu's involvement.

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	24. Chapter 24

I hope all of you who celebrate had a wonderful holiday. I had a good time with family and it was nice having a long weekend (The weather wasn't so nice - we're not supposed to have thunderstorms in December. Fortunately, the tornados stayed north of us although we had straight-line winds that gusted close to 60 miles per hour.) cbw - thanks for asking about my competition. I was pleased - came in ninth out of thirty-seven. There were only five women entered, so we wound up fencing with the guys. I missed out on the top eight, losing to a former member of the Cuban Fencing team. He was very good and a lot of fun to fence. Next tournament is a national level competition down in Louisville towards the end of January. Enough about that - Thank you to all who reviewed and here's the next installment, hope y'all enjoy it.

Chapter 24

Unknown location

1455 Local

"Kate Todd?" Megan closed her eyes. Damn, she should have seen that coming. She'd almost bought into the whole thing. Her skepticism came roaring back to life. There had to be a logical explanation for the events of the last hour or so - something that didn't involve ghosts. Maybe she'd gotten turned on her side by herself and just didn't realize it. God knew she hadn't been paying that much attention between the drug's effects and her desperate attempts to get air into her lungs. As for the voice, well, maybe there was a woman among the kidnappers. Someone with enough authority to stop that nitwit from abusing Mac and leaving them alone. The cold was a bit harder to explain unless she was going in and out of shock. It wasn't the best explanation in the world considering she was feeling better with each passing minute but it would do. If only she could see...

Mac sagged a little at Megan's response. She'd just lost the entire argument. Now what was going to happen? Avis had sounded more than anxious. "I tried," she murmured quietly. The pounding in her head increased and then she realized the air itself seemed to be throbbing. It was bringing the nausea back. Mac closed her eyes as she brought her other hand up to her face, "Whoever's doing that, please stop." She kept her voice down in hopes that Megan wouldn't hear.

Megan shifted uncomfortably. That odd heaviness was back and despite the chill in the room, there was an oppressiveness that was similar to what was felt before a summer storm. It made it more difficult to breathe. She heard Mac's quietly muttered request and couldn't help feeling a bit guilty. For the first time since this ordeal had begun, the Marine sounded defeated.

"They're coming," Kate's voice sounded suddenly, anger still evident in her voice. "Tell Little Miss Skeptic that and see what she thinks when they show up."

Mac's head came up slowly, "Who's coming, exactly? The same guys as before?" She could have been commenting on the weather.

"What?" Megan frowned. It was obvious Mac wasn't talking to her.

"One's new. Older guy, looks like he's in charge," Kate reported, sounding a little calmer. "I didn't see either of those jerks who were in here before."

"Okay," Mac eased back so she leaning against the wall. She glanced in Megan's direction, "Kate says we have company coming. One's an older guy who wasn't here before."

"Oh," Megan didn't know quite what to say. Mac sounded like she didn't care one way or the other if she was believed. Megan shivered a bit, rubbing her arms again. The temperature was dropping once more. Before she could say anything else, there was a rattling at the door. The room grew even chillier, and a few seconds later, the door opened. Megan squinted into the light as she frowned. While she couldn't figure out how Mac could have known, the agent still wasn't ready to accept a ghostly explanation.

"Colonel MacKenzie?" A deep voice sounded, "May I come in?"

"Would it matter if I said no?" Mac asked wearily. She kept her eyes half-closed against the light from the doorway. At least they hadn't hit her with that damn spotlight again. It didn't really make that much difference, the figure standing in front of her was silhouetted. There was no way she could ID him, assuming the opportunity ever arose.

"Certainly, I have no wish to offend your guardians."

Mac stiffened in surprise and then grimaced at the pain it caused, "Excuse me?"

"He's polite for a kidnapper and killer," Kate commented dryly. It sounded like she was standing next to the man.

"Hush," Avis' voice came from Mac's right. "He wants something."

"Your guardians," the man repeated. "May I?" When Mac tipped her head slightly, he took another step further into the room, "I'd like to apologize for those two oafs that came in earlier. They were supposed to escort, not harm you. I wanted to speak with you and this setting is hardly conducive for serious conversation."

Mac couldn't help raising an eyebrow, "If all you wanted was conversation, you could have just called. I'm not that adverse to a good discussion."

The man chuckled, "True enough and I apologize for the inconvenience, but I'm afraid that everything that's been done so far has been necessary."

Mac hesitated and then said softly, "Did that include killing Bradley McKlellan?"

In the sudden silence, Mac could hear Megan's quiet intake of breath. After a few seconds, the man spoke again, his voice equally soft, "Your spirit guides keep you well-informed."

"That's an interesting choice of words," Kate said thoughtfully.

"He's nervous," Avis added.

"Where it concerns my well-being," Mac kept her tone matter-of-fact. Her head felt foggy, so she was running mostly on instinct. As a lawyer, she'd had years of practice at presenting whatever front was necessary for her case. It was standing her in good stead now. "And since you don't deny it, I have to wonder when you plan to kill me and Agent Reeves." It didn't seem quite real, sitting on the floor with a splitting headache, discussing her own impending murder. She was feeling detached from the whole situation.

Bander stared at the woman in front of him. She wasn't what he expected but then, he really hadn't known what to expect. He didn't question her knowledge. If anything, it was one more confirmation that she had strong connection to the spirit world. Bander exhaled slowly, "I don't want to kill either one of you." There was an odd tension in the air that was unsettling and it took a conscious effort not to fidget.

Mac regarded the man in front of her, "Most murderers I've dealt with have said the same thing." That odd detachment she was feeling seemed to have suppressed any sort of innate caution.

Stung, Bander started to step forward again and then froze. A shadowy... presence was what he finally decided to call it, was beginning to loom next to the Marine Colonel. Everything seemed to go still and he heard whispery voice say 'Don't'. There was no mistaking the threat.

Mac glanced towards Avis. This was something different. Instead of a brightening luminescence, she seemed to be sucking light out of the room, becoming a menacingly impenetrable figure. If Mac hadn't known it was Avis, it might have scared the hell out of her. She looked back towards the man and decided to give him points for guts or, at least, iron self-control. While he'd stopped moving forward, he hadn't cut and run. Mac closed her eyes for a moment as she gingerly rubbed the side of her face. Considering her own lack of control, she was vaguely surprised that Megan hadn't lobbed a shoe at her to get her to shut up.

"Colonel MacKenzie?" Bander kept one eye on the darkness, "I really do need to talk to you and I'm sure you would prefer a more comfortable setting. Would you please come with me?" He held his breath while he waited for her reply. More than ever, he wanted - no, needed to convince her of the necessity of what he was doing. Years and years ago, he'd gone on a spirit quest and this had been the result. It wasn't just about revenge, but about retribution and justice for thousands upon thousands who'd died. He'd spent the ensuing time in preparation and watching for the signs that he'd been shown. When they'd appeared, Bander had launched his plan, believing that his ancestors' spirits were with him. The ease of his early success had borne that out. Then Husam had killed the roommate and, suddenly, facets of the plan were spiraling out of his control. Had he somehow misinterpreted the signs? Was it some sort of warning from beyond? Without any way of knowing, he'd proceeded as best he could. It felt like he was navigating in a fog and he didn't like it. Now, as if in answer to his dilemma, the MacKenzie woman had appeared; a direct conduit to his - their ancestors. It couldn't have been a coincidence.

Mac stared at the man trying to figure out just what it was that he wanted from her. She shifted her hand from the side of her face to her forehead. Dammit, her train of thought kept skittering off and she couldn't seem to shake the cobwebs. Mac glanced in Megan's direction and then looked back at the man. There was one thing she could do that didn't require a lot of thought, "I'll go with you if you'll release Agent Reeves unharmed."

"Mac, no!" Megan was shocked out of her silence.

Bander was frowning, "I'm afraid that would be neither feasible nor wise at this point in time."

"Why?" Mac countered, "She hasn't been able to see since your people grabbed us. She can't identify you or tell anyone how to find this place. You want to talk to me, then let her go or I'm keeping my mouth shut." Mac kept her voice firm with a bravado she certainly wasn't feeling. Please God, have the man take the deal. It was the only leverage they had. Once Megan was out of here and safe, she'd happily talk his ear off until Harm and Don found her. Harm would find her. It was the one thing she could be certain about since she'd woken up.

Bander stared from one woman to the other, weighing the risks. Reeves was dangerous, although killing her was dangerous, too, "How do I know she can't see?"

"You have my word as an officer," Mac eyed the man carefully, "Just as I'll take your word when you let her go, that she will be unharmed." There was something about this man that told her he valued integrity.

Abruptly, Bander nodded, "Agreed. Once you and I have left, Agent Reeves will be moved and the police alerted to her location. They'll have her within the hour. Is that acceptable?" Slowly Mac nodded and extended her hand. Bander hesitated slightly and then took a tentative step forward while watching the shadow. When it retreated a bit, he exhaled softly and shook the Marine Colonel's hand. "It will take a few minutes to bring the car around. If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll make the arrangements." When Mac nodded again, he turned and strode out of the room.

Megan heard his footsteps recede and then rounded on Mac, keeping her voice low, "What the hell are you thinking?! You can't go with him! I won't let you."

"You can't stop me," Mac looked towards Avis, "Is Kate still here?"

"She followed the man out to make sure he's keeping his word." Avis sounded worried, "Are you sure this is a good idea? You're not well."

Mac sighed a little, "I think I have to. If I'd refused, there'd be no point in keeping us alive. I appreciate what you two have done so far but neither one of you can stop bullets. Would you mind finding Kate and bringing her back here? I need to talk to you both before he comes back."

"Mac! Stop it," Megan scrubbed her hands through her hair, "Listen to yourself. You've got a head injury. You need medical attention. If you go with this guy, we may never find you."

"And if I don't, he'll have us both killed," Mac snapped and then winced. After a moment, she continued in a quieter tone, "I won't be alone, whether you believe it or not."

- - - - -

JohnnyD hurried down the corridor, heading for the area where the van was concealed. He still couldn't believe what Bander had decided to do. Never, in all the years he'd worked for the Bear, had he ever questioned the man's judgment - until now. What the hell was going on? Johnny glanced over his shoulder and slowed down a fraction. Letting the FBI agent go was monumentally stupid. It would just be a matter of time before it came back and bit them in the ass. Frowning, Johnny slowed down even more. Technically, it was really only his ass on the line. Bander could easily distance himself from any accusations.

Stopping altogether, Johnny stood with his head down and hands on his hips. There had to be a way out of this - something that the Bear would accept later without becoming angry. After a minute, Johnny gave an abrupt nod and pulled out his cell phone. Flipping it open, he hit the speed dial, "Randy? Change of plans - we're moving our base of operations. When you see me pull out of here in the van, I need you and Ralph to torch this place... yeah, right down to the ground ... okay, good ... oh, and Randy? You and Ralph will be done after that. Your money will be in the usual place. ... yeah, okay - thanks, man." Johnny snapped the phone shut and continued on his way. This place had burned once, surely the Bear couldn't fault him if it happened again.

- - - - -

FBI Headquarters

Los Angeles

1555 Local

A quiet beep had Charlie moving back to his laptop and he smiled in satisfaction at the results. He turned towards the bullpen where the Sinclair and Granger were working, "David, Colby, I've got a list of possible locations. Do you wanna take a look?"

David looked up from his computer, "Yeah, can you put it up on the screen?"

He and Colby got up and moved into the conference room as Charlie typed out a rapid set of commands. He looked at the agents, "Just a sec." A few moments later, a map showed on the screen with eight locations circled. Larry got up and joined the agents as they studied the map.

"Man, these are scattered all over." Colby glanced at David. They were both aware that time was running out. He looked over his shoulder at Charlie, "You wouldn't happen to know which of these is the most likely, would you?"

The young professor raised his hands as he shook his head, "All of these are considered most likely out of the list. There's only a few percentage point differences - not enough to choose one over another."

Larry stepped closer to the screen, "So what distinguishes these from the rest?"

"They're isolated, large enough to conceal multiple vehicles, still in LA and, most importantly, no longer in use." Charlie ticked off the points.

"None of these are in use? That seems odd," David frowned. "Why would a company hang on to something if they weren't getting some sort of return from it? That doesn't sound like good business practice."

"Look at the locations," Colby pointed out. "Considering the price of land in LA, they're worth a fortune - with or without a building on them."

David looked back at Charlie, "Any of these for sale?"

Charlie consulted his data again and then typed in another command. Three of the locations turned red, "These are for sale."

"We can probably scratch those off the list. They wouldn't want some realtor or prospective buyer dropping in. What can you tell us about the other five?"

"Not much more," Charlie frowned thoughtfully, "They're idled manufacturing sites with warehouse facilities." He tapped a few keys and a location turned yellow, "This one was damaged in a fire a few months back. It looks like it's scheduled for reconstruction to begin next month."

Colby straightened, staring intently at the map, "That's it." He looked at the other three, "No one would think twice about any activity starting up around the place. They'd figure it was inspectors or contractors or something. It's perfect."

"Okay, let's go," David started towards the door and then stopped when Charlie and Larry moved, too. "Guys, I'm sorry. If the kidnappers are there, it could get dangerous. You need to stay here."

"But if this isn't the place, I'll need to reconfigure the data," Charlie shot a look at Larry before turning back to David, "Look, you have to park out of sight anyway, right? We'll stay in the car. We won't get anywhere near the place, I promise."

David stared at the two professors, taking in Charlie's hopeful expression and Larry's quiet desperation, and then shook his head in resignation, "Fine, you can come." He pointed a finger at them, "You will stay in the car with the doors locked. Is that clear?" When they nodded enthusiastically, he turned back towards the elevators, still shaking his head, "Don's going to kill me."

Colby grinned at his partner, "Not if we find Megan and the Colonel." He pulled out his cell phone, "I'll let Don know and give LAPD a heads-up, too."

- - - -

Inglewood, CA

1620 Local

Harm stiffened as he stared out the window of the SUV, "Don."

"I see it," Don said grimly as he increased his speed a little bit more. They were almost to the location Colby had given them. Up ahead and slightly to the right, a thick column of black smoke was billowing upward.

They rounded a corner and Harm felt his stomach drop. The building in front of them was almost fully engulfed. Fire engines were everywhere as groups of firefighters trained massive amounts of water on the structure. He was out of the SUV almost as soon as it stopped. Don wasn't far behind. Flashing his credentials at the policeman manning a barricade, Don took over the lead as they threaded their way through the organized chaos. Neither man spoke, the roar of the fire made it nearly impossible to hear anyway.

Finally, Don spotted the man he was seeking. Gesturing to Harm, they hurried up to the Fire Chief. The man barely spared them a glance as he barked orders into his radio. Harm waited impatiently, his gaze drawn inexorably towards the inferno. Firmly, he suppressed a wave of despair. Until he had absolute proof, he would not believe Mac was in there.

The Fire Chief ended his call and turned towards the two men. If he was surprised to find a Naval officer at his fire, he didn't show it. He looked at the credentials Don held up and raised an eyebrow, "I'm Chief Colton. Why are the Feds interested in this?"

"DId you find anybody in there?" Don kept a tight rein on himself as he waited for the answer. Please God, this wasn't the right location and Megan and Mac weren't in that building.

Colton hesitated for a second. "Two. One was dead, the other's with the paramedics. I'm sorry," he added, seeing the stricken looks on both men's faces. He waved a hand, "They're on the far side of the building." He watched as the two hurried off and then, with a shake of his head, he returned to his work.

Don resisted the urge to sprint, knowing Harm wouldn't be able to keep up because of his shoulder. His heart was pounding in his ears as he dodged and weaved around vehicles and equipment. Who was dead?

Harm put his long legs to good use while keeping a hand on his bad shoulder. The pain was pounding through it in time with his heart. Don was at a near jog and it was all Harm could do to keep up. It couldn't be Mac who was dead. He kept repeating that to himself. His Marine had more damn lives than a cat - she wouldn't dare succumb to some mundane fire. They rounded a corner and finally saw the ambulances. Harm took two more steps and then froze. Megan was propped up on a stretcher with an oxygen mask on.

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	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Inglewood, CA

1535 Local

Megan listened to the door shut and slowly dropped her head down on her knees. Mac was gone. Judging from the sounds, the Colonel hadn't been at all steady on her feet. Fortunately, the men who'd come to get her had been patient and careful. The fact that she could hear the older man just outside the doorway probably had a lot to do with it. Now that he'd left with Mac, Megan wasn't feeling all that sanguine about the remainder of the supposed 'deal'. Had their positions been reversed, she wouldn't have let one of them go. That left a couple of different scenarios, none of which boded well for her.

This was all her fault anyway. She should have seen that ambush coming. God knew Mac had been jumpy as hell for most of the trip. Megan sighed knowing Don would be pissed when he found out. She was the trained agent and his orders had been to protect the Colonel. She'd failed miserably and now Mac was off God knew where with that lunatic. She didn't even want to contemplate how Commander Rabb was going to react.

Megan brought a hand up and rubbed her eyes. She blinked a couple of times and frowned. Her eyesight was still shot. That would make everything that much more difficult, presuming she actually got out of this mess. At least her mind was clearer than it'd been. Megan shifted uncomfortably. She wished she could say the same about Mac. The Colonel had been pretty sure she'd had a concussion and, as if to prove that point, she'd been having conversations with a pair of ghosts. Thinking about that, Megan couldn't help a sardonic smile as she lifted her head up, "Hey Kate, you around?" She listened to the silence for a moment and then tipped her head to side before settling back down, "Yeah, that's what I thought."

Idiot. Kate watched the FBI agent put her head back down and then sighed in frustration. Avis would have been better suited to watch this woman. She had what seemed to be an infinite amount of patience. The most exasperating part was that Kate couldn't seem to make herself heard. She'd tried yelling as loudly as she could and had gotten absolutely no response. Somehow Avis had managed to make herself heard not once, but twice, by someone other than Mac.

On the other hand, Kate had been the one to make physical contact with the two jerks who'd hurt Mac earlier. She snorted ruefully to herself. Apparently it took two of them to make one competent ghost. Kate shot another look at Megan. It didn't seem like the agent intended on moving soon so it probably wouldn't hurt to take a quick run through the building.

She paused for a moment at the door and then passed through. It still felt odd when she did something like that but it did make things easier. Kate glanced around the building and then held still as she concentrated on her surroundings. She could feel Avis and, to a lesser degree, Mac. It was enough that she knew she would be able to find them easily after Megan was rescued. Kate returned to her perusal of the area. This was also something she didn't quite understand but it beat having to physically cover the grounds. She probably could have done it within the room with Megan but the agent's skepticism was annoying enough to be distracting. Kate hadn't liked being dismissed when she was alive and she liked even less now.

She stopped suddenly. There were two people skirting the perimeter of the building. Kate frowned, they were on two different sides and moving in opposite directions. Why would they be doing that if they were coming to move Megan? Uneasy now, she decided to check in person. It only took a few moments to find the first man. He crouched down next to the building. Kate shifted over in an attempt to see what it was he was doing. Maybe this guy wasn't connected to what was going on. Maybe he was a transient looking for a place to bed down. Was he sick? She jumped back quickly when he suddenly straightened and stepped away. A split second later, fire blazed up and then rapidly spread down the length of the building.

Son of a bitch! So this was how that bastard kept his word! Kate spun around and took off. She had to get Megan out before this firetrap was completely engulfed. A minute later, she standing next to the agent trying vainly to get her attention. Nothing she'd yelled, screamed or whispered had made any impression. Kate huffed in exasperation, time was running out. There had to be some way of communicating. Suddenly, her eyes narrowed and a small grin appeared. Why not give it a try? It always worked for Gibbs. Crouching down, Kate took aim as she focused her energies on her hand and then whacked Megan on the back of the head.

"Ow!" Megan's eyes flew open as her hand went to her head. What the hell?!

Kate smiled. No wonder Gibbs had used that so often, it was incredibly satisfying. She moved in again, this time poking the agent on the shoulder.

Megan twisted around, swinging a hand out, "Dammit, who's doing that?" She stopped and listened hard, trying to detect another presence in the room. There was nothing. Megan froze, oh no - it couldn't be, could it? "Kate?" Her voice dropped to a near whisper and she couldn't help jumping when something yanked the sleeve of her shirt. She pulled her arm back, "Okay, alright, I get it. You're here." A moment later, she was ducking her head again, "Ow. Jeez, what is your problem?!"

"You are, dammit! Get a clue!" Kate concentrated fiercely, grabbed Megan's arm and lifted.

Megan scrambled to get her feet underneath her as she was pulled upward. She braced against the wall, panting a little. This was more than mere convincing, "What's going on? Why do I need to be up?" Once again she listened, her apprehension building. She stiffened in alarm at the faint smell of smoke, "Fire? Oh god, is that what you're trying to tell me? There's fire?"

"Score one for the Fibbies," Kate grumbled as she pushed the agent in the direction of the door. She frowned at Megan's obvious reliance on the wall for balance. Damn, she'd underestimated the lingering effects of the drug. Getting out just got harder.

Megan leaned against the door, searching for the handle and then giving it a twist once she'd found it. It turned easily enough but the door wouldn't open. When she rattled it, it sounded like a padlock on the outside. Megan slumped a little, resting her forehead against the wood. Even on a good day, it was doubtful that she had the strength to break the door down and this was far from a good day. The smell of smoke was getting stronger. "Kate?" Megan turned her head a little, "Do me a favor and tell Mac this wasn't her fault."

"Nothing doing. You're getting out of here," Kate muttered as she passed through the door again. The fire was growing by leaps and bounds but it hadn't made it down this way yet. They still had a chance. She stared at the lock, building her concentration and then shot a fist at it. It bounced a couple of times and that was it. Kate narrowed her gaze and shot her hand at it again. This time when the lock bounced against the door, it popped open and fell off the hasp. Kate smiled in satisfaction. There were a few advantages to being a ghost. Avis had been the one to tell her about opening locks, although how the seemingly prim and proper young woman had figured it out was beyond Kate.

Megan lifted her head when she heard the sound of something metallic hitting the floor. Was it possible? She tried the door again and it swung open. "Thanks," Megan breathed softly as she took a tentative step forward and stopped. There was still the matter of not being able to see. Keeping one hand on the wall of the room, Megan swung the other one back and forth in front of her. When she didn't encounter anything, she took another step. Repeating the sequence, Megan made it to the corner of the room and stopped. Now what? The odds of her stumbling across an exit before the fire caught up were probably astronomical.

There was a tug on her sleeve, pulling her to the left and Megan turned in that direction, feeling a rush of relief. Maybe there was hope. "Thank you, Kate," she murmured, taking a cautious step forward while keeping both hands extended. It wasn't just to warn of obstacles. Her legs still felt rubbery and not being able to see was affecting her sense of balance. Feeling more tugs, Megan moved slowly through the building, staggering now and then. The floor seemed to tilt at odd times, causing her to stumble sideways. She was rapidly collecting a set of bruises from things she'd crashed into.

Megan ignored the minor aches and pains, choosing to concentrate on escape. The fire seemed to gaining momentum, its constant roar filling the air. The air itself was growing hotter with each passing minute and the smoke was building, making it more difficult to breathe. It wouldn't be much longer before she was on her hands and knees. She wished there was some way for Kate to let her know how much further they had to go. It felt like she'd been stumbling around forever.

"What the hell?!"

Surprised, Megan barely had time to react to the man's voice when a hand grabbed her roughly by the arm and yanked her around. She recovered quickly, grasping the hand on her arm and twisting it while her thumb dug into the pressure point on the back. He howled and she shot a fist out in a roundhouse swing, missing him completely. A moment later, Megan doubled over with a gasp as the man hammered his free hand into her side, catching her under the ribs. It was enough to make her loosen her grip and he yanked himself free. The next punch caught the side of her head and Megan hit the floor hard and stayed there, her ears ringing.

"Damn bitch," the man growled as he leaned down and grabbed a double handful of her shirt. It had been pure luck that he'd spotted her on his way out. The whole point of this exercise had been to get rid of evidence and witnesses. At least he wouldn't have to go far, the fire was all around them now. It wouldn't take long to heave the broad back into the flames and then get the hell out.

Megan felt his hands wrap themselves in her shirt. As he started to lift, she swung both hands, palms flat, at his head. For once, luck was with her and she clapped him hard on both ears. With a guttural yell, he let go and grabbed at his head. Megan drew a leg back and shoved out as hard as she could. He was further back than she thought and while she managed to knock him backwards and off, it wasn't nearly what she was hoping for. Flipping over, Megan scrambled to get back on her feet as quickly as possible before the next attack came. She couldn't do it. The blow to the head had wrecked what little balance she had. After the second attempt landed her on her side, she tensed, waiting for whatever was coming next. The fire had to be close now, the heat was becoming unbearable. Being on the floor, at least, was making it a little easier to breathe.

Instead of a foot or fist, Megan heard the man scream in terror. Then an unseen force literally picked her up and threw her across the floor. She slid to a halt a good fifteen feet away as a tremendous crash sounded. A wave of heated air flew over her, making her curl up in a protective ball as bits of fiery debris landed on and around her. Gasping from a combination of pain, fear and heat, Megan barely had time to process it all before something grabbed the back collar of her shirt and started to pull. "Okay, okay," she wheezed, getting her hands and knees underneath her. She couldn't walk anymore but she sure as hell could crawl.

What had felt like forever before had given away to a hellish version of eternity. She was coughing almost constantly now, her eyes watering and the rest of her senses were being slowly overwhelmed by the mind-numbing, deafening roar of the fire. Doggedly, Megan followed the pull on her shirt, knowing that she was reaching the end of her strength. Suddenly, the pull stopped and a hand landed on her shoulder. Megan reared back on her heels, her hands coming up in a defensive position as she fought off a wave of dizziness.

"Whoa, take it easy," a muffled voice sounded in front of her. "We have to get out of here now. Come on." A gloved hand gently gripped her by the elbow. She reached out and grabbed at the arm in return, feeling the canvas material. It had to be a fireman. She wasn't going to die. The relief was overwhelming and Megan finally let go and collapsed.

The fireman caught her as she sagged forward, deftly drawing her across his shoulders and standing up. Turning, he hurried out of the building, keying his mike, "Ray? Eddy? I've got a live one for you. Get ready."

- - - - -

Inglewood, CA

1635 Local

Don sprinted the last ten yards, stopping short when a burly paramedic stepped into his path putting out a hand, "Hold up there Tex, authorized personnel only."

Impatiently yanking out his credentials and showing them, Don snapped, "That woman's one of my agents. I need to see her."

The paramedic raised his hands as he stepped to the side, "Sorry, man, just trying to protect my patient."

He fell in alongside as Don moved up to the stretcher holding Megan. Now that he was nearer, Don could see that her eyes were closed. He turned to look at the paramedic, "How is she?"

The man shrugged a little, "She passed out right after one of our guys found her, been unconscious ever since. We're treating her for smoke inhalation. Her hands and knees are pretty torn up - we figure she crawled a good long way trying to stay under the smoke. She's got multiple contusions and a few minor burns. We're just getting ready to ship her to the hospital. Rampart," he added, forestalling Don's next question.

Eppes nodded slowly as he took in Megan's appearance. Beneath the oxygen mask, the vivid bruise on her jaw as well as smudges of dirt and soot stood out in contrast to her pale skin. Both hands were heavily bandaged. Hearing footsteps coming to a halt behind him, he glanced over his shoulder and saw Harm standing there. Guilt made a sudden appearance and he looked at the paramedic again, "The other victim? Where... ?"

"He's over at the coroner's wagon," the paramedic answered sympathetically. "The body's pretty badly burned, part of the roof landed on him. It'd probably help if you could positively ID the guy." He stopped when both Don and Harm suddenly straightened.

"He?" Harm stepped forward, "The other victim you found was a man?"

"Yeah," the paramedic looked from one to the other, "He's not one of yours?"

"No, but I might be able to ID him," Don frowned. Bradley McKlellan was still missing. Could it be him? "Where's the coroner?" He nodded when the paramedic pointed off to the left. Don shot a look at Harm and saw that the Commander had turned around to stare at building. He looked as well, dread and guilt tying a knot in his gut, as he looked at the still-raging fire. He was so damn glad to see Megan alive but it wasn't fair that Mac hadn't gotten out. What could that have happened? He'd bet a year's salary that Megan wouldn't have abandoned the Colonel - not if she'd still been alive. The agent stepped over and put a light hand on Rabb's shoulder, "I'm going to see if the body is McKlellan's. Would you stay with Megan in case she wakes up?"

Harm nodded slowly and then turned his head to look at Don, "She's not in there. I'd know if she was."

Don swallowed, glancing away from the intensity of the other man's gaze, "Okay, man, that's good. Listen, I'll be back in minute or two." He was running and he knew it. Watching Rabb in denial had to be nearly as painful as seeing the man's grief. Don needed a few minutes to come to terms with everything if he was going to be offering support.

Harm watched Eppes stride away and turned towards Megan with a sigh. The paramedic was taking her vitals again. He knew Don was humoring him but it really didn't matter. He couldn't explain it but he'd never been so sure of something in his life. As his gaze swept past the chaotic scene, Harm froze suddenly and turned back. What the... Rapidly, he scanned the area again. Nothing. He shook his head and continued over to Megan. For a brief second, he could have sworn he'd seen Kate Todd standing there, staring at him with her arms folded.

Kate raised an eyebrow as she watched Harm walk over to where Megan was lying. For a moment, it almost looked like he'd seen her but that wasn't possible. According to Avis, it was Mac who had the 'sight'. She followed him over and moved to stand near the paramedic on the opposite side of the stretcher. Megan was still out. It didn't really surprise Kate. The agent had been through the wringer these last few hours. It had been a near thing at the end. That son of a bitch had surprised both of them. Kate hadn't expected anyone to still be in the building. Her attention had been focused on getting Megan out. It had taken precious seconds to gather her energies. Fortunately, Megan had shown true grit in the ensuing fight and hung in just long enough. When she'd shoved the man off, it had given Kate the opening to deliver her own shot. He'd just been getting up again when Kate had knocked him flat. She'd heard the roof give way at nearly the same time. She had barely made it back to Megan before it hit. There hadn't been time for niceties. Kate had heaved the agent out of the way like a sack of meal.

The struggle had taken its toll. Unable to stand, Megan had been reduced to crawling. It had probably been a little easier to breathe down there but there had been a trade-off. The floor was littered with debris. Shards of glass, rusted metal and old wood had been mixed into the dirt and other trash. It hadn't taken long before Megan was leaving a trail of blood behind her.

The other paramedic appeared with an ambulance attendant and a gurney. Harm watched as they transferred Megan over and started for the ambulance. As he followed after, a slight disturbance caught his attention and he looked up to see David, Colby, Charlie and Larry hurrying over. The three men hung back, letting Larry be the first to approach. Harm thought he looked a bit lost as he spoke to the paramedic and then followed along, one hand resting on the stretcher.

Both David and Colby had relaxed upon seeing Megan and gave Larry some space. The fact that the paramedics weren't scurrying frantically around told them that her injuries weren't life-threatening. Charlie was less able to hide his worry. Their attitudes changed when they realized Harm was standing there. After a silent exchange of looks, Colby was the first to speak up, his manner cautious, "The Colonel?"

Harm shook his head and then hastened to elaborate at the stricken looks from all three men, "No, I mean she's not in there."

Charlie looked upset and confused, "But, but they were together. How do you know? " He was oblivious to the look from Colby that said 'let the man hope'.

"My gut," Harm replied simply. Kate turned around upon hearing that phrase, feeling a bit of a pang. She shook her head. Gibbs and the team were going to be fine. Her job was here. She looked from Megan to Harm, trying to decide whether she should go with the Commander for a bit before returning to Mac. It was tempting. Technically, her responsibility to Reeves was over. She hesitated one more moment, then turned and followed the stretcher. Once Megan was awake, she would consider her assignment at an end.

Don walked back, nodding to the others and then looking at Harm, "The guy they pulled out isn't McKlellan. It could be one of the gang that did the kidnapping. The coroner will let us know if they can make an identification." He turned to watch them load Megan into the ambulance. Larry climbed in with her. He turned back, addressing the others, "They're taking Megan to Rampart." He glanced towards the building, "All things considered, it's probably a given that this was arson. I'll have the crime scene guys coordinate with the fire marshal to see what they can find." Don scrubbed a hand through his hair, "We need to talk to Megan and find out what the hell happened."

David glanced away for a moment before focusing on Don, "And we probably need to get a guard on her." He waved a hand at the fire while carefully not looking at Harm, "You know she wasn't supposed to survive this."

"Yeah, you're right," Don sighed, taking one more look around. Beyond the barricades, the normal crowd had gathered. Could one of them be part of the gang? The LAPD was canvassing the people, looking for witnesses. Don seriously doubted they'd find anyone who would admit to seeing anything. He looked back at Harm and the others, "Let's go. Charlie, you want to come with us?"

Charlie shifted a little uncomfortably before nodding. He didn't know what to make of Harm's attitude. He understood denial all too well, but this - it was just going to make the truth that much more devastating. He couldn't help glancing at the inferno and shuddering a little. Death by fire always seemed particularly hideous and the thought of Mac in there... He impatiently swiped at his eyes as he followed Don and Harm back to their SUV. He'd give Amita a call after they got official word on Megan's condition. She'd had a class to teach and hadn't been able to help.

Fifteen minutes, they were on their way to the hospital. Don glanced over at Harm in the passenger seat and quietly cleared his throat, "Harm?" He waited for the Commander to shift his attention away from the window, "Look, I know you're sure about Mac not being in there but just in case - "

Harm was shaking his head, "No, you don't understand. I know she's not there." He glanced down at his hands, "Because I know she's still alive. You're just going to have to accept that. It's hard to explain."

"Try," Don replied softly, "I'd really like to know." He'd been in love here and there over the years but had yet to find someone who meshed with him as well as the Colonel and Rabb seemed to do. Could there really be a sort of connection?

Harm raised his hands for a moment and then let them drop, "We've been through a lot over the years - saved each other countless times, it seems. I always know where she is." He chuckled mirthlessly to himself, "I can't point to a map like Mac can, but believe me, if she were... gone - I would know that, too."

"Point to a map?" Charlie spoke up from the back seat. He'd been listening quietly, trying to reconcile Harm's irrational attitude and thinking about Amita. Would he be able to sense if something happened to her? They hadn't really been together that long. Would it be different years down the road? It was certainly a romantic notion but he couldn't bring himself to believe it.

Harm sighed, glancing back at the young professor. He shouldn't have let that slip, Mac was going to kill him. He smiled a little at the thought. She'd be aggravated but not truly angry, and when she was like that, he had a foolproof method for defusing the situation. The fact that Mac enjoyed it as much as he did was probably why it worked so well.

"Harm?"

Charlie's voice pulled him back from his musings. Harm looked from one brother to the other, "Years ago, I was ferrying a Tomcat back to the mainland and got caught in a pretty nasty thunderstorm. There was a lightning strike, things started going haywire and I wound up ditching in the ocean. My RIO ejected first but I had a problem and didn't get out at the same time so we hit the water miles apart. My chute lines got tangled after I landed and I had to cut them loose and I accidentally cut the tether to my raft. There were fifteen and twenty foot swells and the raft got away from me. The Search and Rescue team had to wait for the storm to lessen before they could try and find us and by then, I'd drifted even further away. They found my RIO and assumed I'd be in the same area, but I wasn't. She didn't know I hadn't ejected with her. It was April, the water was colder than hell and I'd been in it for hours. I was dying. The storm was picking up strength again, it was dark, the SAR team was running low on fuel and the skipper was about to order them to break off the search." Harm paused for moment. Damn, he could still feel the cold seeping into his bones.

"What happened?" Charlie was on the edge of his seat.

"They'd called my CO at JAG when I first went down and he told Mac and my colleagues. Everyone stayed at the office waiting for word. After a while, Mac disappeared into her office. Then she marched out and went to the map someone had pulled out, pointed to a spot and asked Admiral Chegwidden to tell the search teams to go there. It was completely out of the search grid and the skipper wouldn't risk it. When he was about to recall the teams, Chegwidden convinced him to send them through Mac's area and they found me."

"Wow," Charlie breathed, slightly open-mouthed in astonishment. He could tell Don was equally amazed. "But how did she know?"

Harm shrugged, "I can't figure that out any more than I can figure out how the hell she always knows what time it is. It's just Mac."

"We're here," Don interrupted as he pulled into the parking lot. That was a hell of a story Rabb had told. Maybe he was right. Maybe, for some reason, the kidnappers had separated Mac and McKlellan from Megan and then decided to get rid of the agent. It made a certain sense and explained why Megan had been by herself. He parked and the three men hurried towards the ER. They were joined by Colby and David. Entering the ER, Don pulled his badge out as he approached the admitting desk, "Don Eppes, FBI. One of my agents was just brought in, Megan Reeves."

An older woman looked up from a chart she was reading, "She's in Room 6 but you'll have to wait until they're finished examining her." She tipped her head to the left, "Follow the yellow stripe on the floor, there's a waiting area just around the corner." Her voice was kind but it was apparent she expected them to obey.

Don couldn't resist asking, "She's going to be okay, right?"

The woman lowered the chart and looked at him over her glasses, "You'll have to ask her doctor. I have no way of knowing that." Her tone softened as she took in the anxious expressions on the small group of men, "Tell you what, go to the waiting area and I'll check with her attending." She tended to cut more slack when patients were firemen or law enforcement. It was the least she could for professions that regularly risked their lives for the rest of the population.

"Thank you," Don turned and led his group off. He didn't like waiting but the woman had been both civil and understanding and the least he could do was reciprocate. Hopefully, it wouldn't be long.

Dixie moved down the corridor towards Room 6. She was going to miss this place. Her retirement was only a month or so away. While Kelly Bracket was the overall Director of Medicine, he had a soft spot for the ER, making sure they had the best they could get. As his administrative assistant, Dix was his eyes and ears for everything that went on. Her years as head nurse had been an advantage. She had a wealth of knowledge, a reputation for fairness and the respect of all who knew her. Steve Brown was the attending physician for Reeves and a damn good one. She was on good terms with all the ER doctors, Brown certainly wouldn't mind her inquiry into his case.

She stepped into the room to find Steve bent over one of his patient's hands while one of the nurses was focused on the other. He looked up and gave her a quick smile, "Hey, Dix."

Dixie smiled in return and gestured towards Megan, "I've got a group of worried Feds in the waiting area. What can you tell me?"

Steve grimaced a little, "Well, she's got a boatload of crap embedded in her hands and knees. They're going to be tender for a while. The damage to her lungs from the smoke looks minimal - she was lucky. I'm waiting for blood tests to come back - I found a needle puncture with some bruising on her neck, so somebody drugged her. She's got other bruising as well - looks like she got banged around a bit. Nothing's broken, so that's good. I also found flashburn on her eyes but the scarring doesn't look bad so it should heal okay."

"Has she been conscious at all?"

The doctor shrugged, "For a little bit when she arrived. Seemed pretty disoriented, asked for Kate. I put her under so we could clean her hands and knees. We'll probably need to keep her for a couple of days until her eyes clear up and to make sure any infection is under control."

Dixie nodded, "Thanks. Would you mind if I relayed that to her colleagues?"

Brown shook his head and gestured with the tweezers he was holding, "Be my guest, I'm going to be here a while."

- - - -

Don listened as the older woman went through Megan's condition, feeling a mixture of anger, concern and frustration. Dammit, he would get the people responsible for this whole mess if it was the last thing he did. He took a deep breath, "I don't suppose there's any way we can talk to her?"

Dix shook her head, "Not for a good couple of hours. It's going to take time to get all the debris out and it's easier on everyone if she's sedated."

He rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced off to the side, "This flashburn, what exactly is it?"

"It's like having a flash go off in front of your face. Your vision is obscured for a few seconds by the afterimage. It can be caused from being exposed to a really strong light like a laser. Sometimes, the afterimage can last days rather than minutes - especially if there were multiple exposures. Fortunately, it's not permanent." Dix could tell the agent was frustrated.

"So that's how they did it," Colby said quietly. "They must have used lasers to blind Megan and the Colonel. That's how they got them without a fight."

Don nodded, it helped to know the how but what he really wanted was who. He looked around the group, Charlie was sitting next to Larry offering silent support, "Has anybody run across a 'Kate' during this investigation?"

"Kate Todd," Harm said, his face pale. Good god, Mac hadn't been dreaming? Megan had seen her, too?

The other men turned to look at him. Colby spoke first after glancing at Don, "The NCIS agent who was killed? Why would Megan ask about her?"

Harm shook his head, "I have no idea." He didn't want to believe in ghosts but he'd had his own experiences so he couldn't deny their existence. There was no way he would share that with these men.

Kate stood in the corner, her eyes narrowed. Maybe she needed to stick around here a little bit longer.

... 2504730781961, 4052739537881, 6557470319842 ...


	26. Chapter 26

Sorry for the long delay, RL for the last two weeks has been hectic. I've been preparing for the competition in Louisville this weekend. (I'm hoping adversity builds character because my back muscles had a spasm last week that apparently pinched a nerve. One leg went numb from the knee down. It's gotten better. Now it's only tingly. I can wiggle my toes and I can still fence.) As the resident graphic artist in the family, I'm also working on a slide show for my youngest sister's 40th birthday party at the end of the month. There's nothing quite like rooting through a large container of family photos (a very large container), scanning and then color-correcting all the little dears. I'm learning to hate Polaroid. I'll be glad when January is over. Anyway, I believe I've whined enough - didn't want you to think I was ignoring you or this story. Hope y'all enjoy this next installment.

Chapter 26

Unknown location

1720 Local

Mac slowly opened her eyes and groaned, a hand going to the side of her neck. Someone had stabbed her with a needle soon after leaving the room. It hardly seemed necessary, she'd been within a hairsbreadth of passing out anyway from being hauled about. Mac raised her head a fraction and looked around. She was lying on a bed in a sparsely furnished room. Things were still a bit out of focus and her head was pounding badly. She decided she was lucky to have woken up at all. She wasn't a doctor but tranquilizers and concussions didn't seem like a good combination. When she could do more than have her eyeballs roll around in her head, she figured she'd be pissed. They'd taken a hell of chance with her life despite the fact the old man seemed determined to speak with her. Mac let her head sink back down and closed her eyes again. "Avis?" she whispered softly. The last room she'd been in had apparently been bugged, it was a safe bet that this one was as well.

"Here, Sarah," Avis replied in an equally soft tone.

"Any idea where we are?" Mac consulted her internal clock and decided she'd been out for an hour and forty-five minutes. What she didn't know was how much of that time had been spent traveling.

"We were heading south and I think we're out of the city, but I'm not really sure. Sorry." Avis decided to refrain from filling Sarah in on what had happened. Once they'd gotten the Marine out of the room and had padlocked the door again, one of the men had pulled a syringe out of his pocket and jabbed it into her neck. Sarah had collapsed like a ton of bricks. Apparently, it had surprised the older man as much as it had Avis and Kate. That surprise had quickly given way to anger and Avis hadn't paid anymore attention to the old man. Instead she focused on the idiot with the syringe and lent her energy to Kate who'd waded in like an avenging angel. The man who'd wielded the needle soon found himself suspended just above the floor, his face beginning to purple. The sound of a gun being cocked had stopped both women. The old man held a pistol to Sarah's head as he calmly asked them to desist. Kate had unceremoniously dropped the man in a heap. He'd hit the ground hard and laid there wheezing for a minute or two before slowly sitting up.

Under the old man's direction, they'd picked Sarah up again and carried her to a vehicle parked nearly at the other end of the building. Kate reluctantly stayed with Megan, as Sarah had asked, while Avis slowly followed her friend. After they'd put Sarah in the back, the old man had turned and shot the man who'd injected her. Both Avis and the other man had been frozen in shock. The old man had then turned to the remaining man and said simply, "He presumed too much." He'd climbed into the passenger's side and waited until the man had scrambled nervously into the driver's seat and pulled away, leaving the body lying amid the debris. Avis had stood there for a few moments, waiting. Sure enough, as soon as his life-force flickered out, the man's spirit had appeared. He'd been angry, frightened and confused and, like McKlellan, the shadows hadn't waited long to take him. His terrified wail had dwindled into the distance and Avis couldn't help shuddering. She hadn't been a saint in her lifetime but apparently it had taken more than the average daily transgressions to earn the shadows' attention. With one last look, Avis had concentrated on Sarah and then rejoined her on this latest journey.

"Megan?" Mac asked quietly after a few minutes.

"I don't know but Kate is with her," The brunette was fiery but Avis found that she liked woman's passionate, plain-spoken ways. They made a good team. Hopefully, Megan would be safe soon and Kate could rejoin them. Avis had a feeling they would both be needed before this ended.

After thirty-eight minutes of letting herself drift, Mac tried opening her eyes again. Squinting a bit against the headache, she slowly turned on her side and then levered herself up. She stayed bent over, cradling her head in her hands. After a minute or so of slow steady breathing, Mac lifted her head and addressed whoever was listening, "What do you want with me?" She let the silence drag out for a bit, "Hello? Anybody home?" Sighing a little, Mac dropped her head back into her hands, "You know, some aspirin would be nice." She was feeling a bit less foggy than before for which she was grateful. Thinking was a little easier. That old man had gone through a lot of trouble to get her here. How could her heritage make that much of a difference? They both had Native American blood, so what? Obviously, they'd chosen different career paths.

It was also obvious that this was the head guy that Charlie's equations had exposed. What did he want? Up until now, everything this man had done had been rational, well-planned and cold-blooded. With McKlellan's death, there weren't any more links to the terrorist group and she had a feeling Rashid would no longer be found at UCLA. Logically, after determining that McKlellan hadn't spilled any secrets, the next step would have been to get rid of her and Megan. That hadn't happened - because of Kate and Avis.

Mac scrubbed at her face. Of all the weird twists this investigation could have taken, this seemed the oddest and the most unpredictable. The old man believed in ghosts. That was wonderful - just frigging, peachy wonderful. Did he talk to them, too? Did he expect her to sit down and bond with him over mutual ghost buddies? The man was planning a terrorist attack on the US, her country, her home - the place she'd taken an oath to defend. Mac paused as another thought hit her. Her country? Technically, it was - more so than it was, say, Harm's. She had Cherokee blood. She was indigenous, just like the old man. Did he somehow think that made them allies? Mac frowned. That line of reasoning hadn't worked for Sadiq, it certainly wasn't going work here.

Kate had said 'rebirth' but wouldn't revenge be closer? Her studies into the history of the Cherokee had been depressing and shameful. Calculated genocide of all Native Americans seemed to be the goal of the Europeans, one the American government had willingly stepped in to finish. Could this entire investigation - the possible terrorist plot and all the associated deaths - be about an Indian uprising?

"Sarah."

Avis' voice held a note of warning and Mac lifted her head in time to hear the door lock rattle. With an effort, she straightened up a little, keeping herself braced with a solid grip of the bedcovers on either side. She heard a muffled voice say 'Stay back.' and gave a small smile. That was one order she wouldn't have a problem complying with. Two men entered the room, their faces concealed by ski masks. Mac felt a flutter of hope. If they were still bothering to conceal their identity, then perhaps she had a chance. One man stayed by the door while the other cautiously carried a tray over to the nightstand and sat it down. Without a word, he turned and left. Once he'd cleared the room, the guard backed out, closing the door and locking it.

"Thank you," Mac said quietly as she turned to look at the tray. They were feeding her, another hopeful sign. The tray held a bottle of water, a cellophane-wrapped sandwich and a small bottle of ibuprofen. Her stomach was still feeling queasy, so she ignored the sandwich for now, heading for the water and ibuprofen. It was a bit of a struggle getting the cap off the water bottle. Her sprained wrist made it hard to hold the bottle firmly enough to twist the cap off. She finally managed and took a long, satisfying drink. The ibuprofen was easier. After swallowing the pills, Mac looked at the half bottle of remaining water and decided to conserve. There was no telling how convivial her hosts were going to remain. In the meantime, with nothing else to do, rest wasn't a bad idea.

Mac eased herself back down on the bed, curling up on her side. "Avis?" she murmured softly as her eyes closed.

"Still here, go to sleep," Avis watched as Mac's breathing began to even out and felt a flicker of amusement. Years ago, her husband Avril, in answer to her exasperated question about his penchant for falling instantly asleep and being able to instantly awake, had told her it was a soldier's habit. During a campaign, one never knew when sleep would be possible and so, soldiers grabbed sleep whenever and wherever possible - no matter what the circumstances or location. Odd as it still seemed to her, Sarah obviously had acquired the same habit. Smiling quietly at the memories, Avis turned her focus outward, resuming her vigil.

- - - - - -

Rampart Hospital

1830 Local

Larry straightened up as Megan began to shift. He glanced over his shoulder to where Charlie and Harm were sitting. Don and Colby had headed back to the office while David had returned to the site of the fire to gather any more additional information. Alerted by Larry, both Harm and Charlie stood up and moved closer to the bed. "Megan?" Larry asked quietly, keeping his hand on her forearm just above the bandages that covered her hands.

Megan slowly came awake, feeling somewhat confused. She tried to get her eyes open but it felt like they'd been glued shut. She tensed for a moment until her other senses began to kick in. She was warm and comfortable. More importantly, she heard Larry's voice calling her name.

"Larry?" Her voice was rough, making her aware of the rawness in her throat. Her head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton and her hands were throbbing.

"I'm here," Larry replied, leaning in a bit more. "You're going to be okay. You're in the hospital."

"Mac?" Details were starting to come back but she had to ask.

"We don't know," Harm stepped in a little closer, his nerves taut. "Was she with you?"

Megan started to shake her head and then stopped when the dizziness flared, "They took her. A man showed up, seemed to be in charge, wanted to talk to her. Said he wanted a more comfortable setting."

The men exchanged confused glances. Harm leaned in a little, "Talk to her about what? Was McKlellan with her?"

"McKlellan's dead."

Harm and Charlie stared at each before looking back at Megan. Harm rubbed the back of his neck, "Are you sure?"

"Mac said he was. She said it to the man, he didn't deny it and then she asked him when he planned to kill the both of us." Megan still couldn't believe the Marine Colonel had done that.

"What happened?" Harm held his breath. That didn't sound at all like Mac.

"He said he didn't want to kill us and Mac basically called him a liar."

"Oh my," Larry said faintly.

"And?" Harm wasn't sure he wanted to hear it.

"And, nothing, the man didn't do anything." Megan frowned, "Well, maybe not 'nothing'. The temperature dropped in the room and I heard a woman's voice say 'Don't'. It wasn't Mac." She started to put a hand up to her face and then winced, "Ow."

"The doctor said your hands would be sore for a while. You torn them up getting out of the building. Do you remember the fire?" Larry's voice was cautious, his hand tightening on her arm as she tensed. Behind him, Harm and Charlie stared at each other.

"We need to call Don," Charlie kept his voice down. Harm nodded, indicating that the younger man should call his brother while he focused on Megan. If true, McKlellan's death was going to cause untold problems. Harm wasn't looking forward to his own call to Cresswell. It had been hard enough telling him about the abduction. The General had been surprisingly restrained and Harm had been grateful for that. He didn't need the extra stress.

Megan nodded slowly, her voice hitching just a bit, "I didn't think I was going to get out."

"Tell us what happened," Harm's tone was warmly sympathetic.

Megan hesitated. How was she going to explain this? She was having a hard time believing it.

"We know about the lasers. This wasn't your fault. There wasn't anything you or Mac could have done." Harm misinterpreted her reluctance.

"The doctors said you've got flashburn but it's not permanent. You'll be fine in a couple of days." Larry added, knowing how frightening the unknown could be.

Megan nodded gratefully in his direction and then exhaled slowly. This was going to be tough. "I woke up and realized I couldn't see. They came for me not long afterwards, took me to another room. They wanted to know if McKlellan had talked at all. I told them no and they stuck a needle in my neck. I guess they took me back to the same room as before. The next time I woke up, I could hear Mac talking."

"Was she okay?" Harm couldn't help interrupting.

"I think she has a concussion. Her head hurt and she didn't think she could stand on her own." Megan grew a little more tense.

"When did the man show up?" Harm could feel his heart hammering a little harder, knowing Mac was injured.

"Umm, a bit later," Megan paused reluctantly, "There was an incident." There was no way around this without bringing the word 'supernatural' into it.

"What kind of incident?" Harm stiffened, his mind going automatically to worst case scenario. Dammit, if any of those men had touched Mac, he would hunt the bastard down and kill him.

"Two men came in to get Mac. I think they wanted to question her, too. They ordered her up and when she told them she couldn't, one guy grabbed her and hauled her up. I guess she was already feeling nauseous because it made her throw up."

"And then?" Larry prompted, feeling the tension radiating off the Naval Commander.

"And then," Megan steeled herself, realizing now how Mac must have felt, "And then they got angry and shoved her back down. I think they were about to do more but they were stopped."

"The boss showed up?" Harm said, relaxing slightly. Talk about timing.

"No, he showed up because of what happened next." Megan took a breath and plunged ahead, "Mac has a couple of, um, guardians with her. They protected her and threw both men out of the room." Dead silence greeted her last statement.

"What?" Charlie couldn't help exclaiming. He'd been staying in the background, deferring to the two men who had a personal stake in finding out what had happened.

Harm put up a hand, cutting off anything else Charlie might have said. He leaned in, his manner even more intent, "Was one of them Kate Todd?" He ignored the wide-eyed looks from Larry and Charlie.

Surprised, Megan nodded gratefully, glad at least one person wasn't questioning her sanity, "A woman named Avis is the other."

Harm straightened as he stared at Megan and Larry watched him curiously. To him, the Commander's reaction was even more interesting than Megan's amazing statements. "Did you know this Avis person, Commander?" Harm gave the physicist a startled look. That wasn't a question he expected.

"Larry! Come on, don't tell me you're buying any of this?" Unable to contain himself, Charlie stared at his mentor. Surely, the other two men didn't believe what Megan was saying. There had to be another explanation - a rational explanation.

Larry turned to look at Charlie, one eyebrow raised, "Are you telling me that Megan is lying to us?"

"Well, no. No, not exactly," Charlie backpedaled, shooting a guilty look at Megan. Nevertheless, he stuck to his guns, "But there has to be a more logical explanation." He gestured towards the agent, "Megan, you said it yourself, they drugged you and you couldn't see. Isn't it possible you just misinterpreted what you heard?"

"I met Avis once," Harm stated quietly, "She died... some years ago. She was a special lady and she and Mac were close." There was no way he would admit that Avis Payne Simpson had died nearly a century ago after a long, full life.

"Harm," Charlie said in exasperation, "If Mac has a concussion, isn't it more likely that she was hallucinating?

"I don't think hallucinations could have stopped two angry men," Larry pointed out, amusement tinging his observation. He was more open to the ethereal. One couldn't be in cosmology without some faith in the unexplainable. His eyebrows rose slightly as he watched a water pitcher on the nightstand just behind Harm and Charlie, tremble and then begin a slow slide towards the edge.

"Charlie, how do you think I got out of that building?" Megan asked with a touch of asperity. "I couldn't see."

"I don't know, but there has to be a better explanation than - well, ghosts. There's no such thing." Charlie waved his hands for emphasis and then jumped in surprise as water splashed down his leg and onto his shoes.

"What just happened?" Megan demanded.

"Nothing," Charlie swiped at his pants and then shook a foot. "I accidentally knocked the water pitcher off the table."

"Then you did it without touching it," Larry pointed out. "I watched it slide over and then launch itself."

"Kate's still here," Listening to Charlie splutter, Megan leaned back into her pillows with a feeling of satisfaction. She addressed the air in front of her, "Thank you for getting me out of there."

Harm searched the room and then turned back to Megan, "She's here? Can you hear her? Does she know where Mac is?" Charlie stopped shaking his foot in order to stare at the Commander. Could he seriously be asking a 'ghost' about Mac's location? Had everyone in this room lost their minds?

Megan shook her head, "No, I can't hear Kate. She found... other ways to communicate. I don't know if she knows where Mac is or not."

Harm visibly deflated, "Do you have any idea what the man wanted?"

"Well, he believes in ghosts. Whatever it was that had happened earlier didn't phase him at all." Megan ignored the soft snort she knew was from Charlie. "Honestly, I'm not sure what he wants exactly. Mac said he was Native American. He was very polite, very disciplined and he was very anxious to talk to Mac about her 'spirit guides'."

Harm frowned, shooting a look at Charlie. Could it be Bander again? It was too much to be a coincidence. He turned back to Megan, "We've been running into a man by the name of Carson Bander. He's the CEO and founder of a conglomerate called Liwanu Enterprises. He's rich, he dabbles in politics and he's a Native American. The building you were being held in belongs to Liwanu Enterprises. It was damaged in a fire about three months ago and reconstruction was scheduled for next month."

"Essentially abandoned, so he has deniability. Anyone could have used it without his knowledge," Megan sighed and then tried to stifle a yawn.

"Never mind," Larry said firmly with a look at the other two. "You need to rest. We can talk again later." He made shooing motions at Harm and Charlie, "Go on. Go back to the office and figure out where Colonel MacKenzie might be. I'm staying here."

Nodding, Harm left with Charlie in tow. Once out in the corridor, he put his long legs to use, forcing Charlie into a near jog to keep up. The young math professor gamely kept pace for a little while before calling out Harm's name in exasperation. Rabb stopped and turned, any annoyance being replaced by contrition at the sight of Charlie leaning over slightly with his hand on his side. He walked back, "I'm sorry, I forgot."

Charlie waved a hand as he straightened slowly, "It's okay, I know you're worried. I am, too. He started moving down the hallway, determination radiating with each step, "We found Mac once before, we can do it again."

Harm watched him walk past and shook his head with a hint of a smile. Whether he knew it or not, Charlie had just given a passable imitation of his formidable older brother. He started after the math professor, catching up easily and then matching stride. Harm glanced over, "Did you get hold of Don?" Charlie nodded almost absently, already silently debating the best approach for locating Mac. Harm waited a couple of seconds and then raised an eyebrow, "And?"

"What?" Charlie finally looked at the Commander and then shook his head, "Sorry, umm, yeah - Don's coming here to interview Megan. He said that David's already on his way back from the fire." Charlie paused and Harm swore he could see a hundred little wheels turning, "According to the Fire Chief, they found another body of a man at the other end of the building. He wasn't as badly burned and he'd been shot."

"Dissension in the ranks?" Harm frowned, trying to decide if this would be good or bad for Mac.

Charlie shrugged, "Either way, it's one less." Nodding grimly, Harm fell silent and neither man spoke again as they left the hospital.

Kate watched Harm and the younger man walk down the corridor and folded her arms. It had been particularly satisfying dumping the water on that smug idiot but it had also been a lot harder then she expected. Either it was going to take more time to recover from rescuing Megan or she needed to be in the grip of a stronger emotion than annoyance. Kate took one more look down the hallway. Although it wasn't anything like the connection to Mac, she was fairly certain she could find Harm again. It seemed to be easier with people she'd had contact with in her prior life. Kate glanced back towards Megan's room and shook her head. Her assignment was over, it was time to get back to Mac.


	27. Chapter 27

Back from Kentucky, it was an interesting experience. This was a Div. 1 event - the people who play at this level are Olympic and World Cup hopefuls. There were 151 women entered in my event, 80% were college age and younger. I'm 51 years old and I felt like Methuselah. That said, I didn't do too badly with the kids. I finished 62nd, losing the bout to get into the top 32 by two touches, 15-13. All things considered, I'm happy. I don't think I've ever fenced a national competition at that level before so it was nice not finishing at the bottom. Next up, I have a local tournament in early February and then it's off to Atlanta, GA for another national level event.

Here's the next chapter. As always, I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 27

Unknown location

1920 Local

Bander paced back and forth, occasionally stopping to run a hand over his close-cropped hair. Once again, events had taken an unexpected and unwelcome turn. As much as it pained him, killing JohnnyD had been necessary - a just punishment. Johnny taken too much upon himself, ignoring Bander's orders not to harm either woman. Injecting MacKenzie with a sedative could have killed her, considering her probable head injury; and now, as news of the fire was being eagerly reported, it seemed Johnny had taken his defiance to extremes. Bander uttered another small oath. According to the news, two bodies had been found. No identification had been made. One, of course, was Johnny but the other would be Reeves and that was going to cause a myriad of problems. Bander glanced towards the door of the room MacKenzie was in and swore again. He'd been attempting to build a rapport with her. It was too early to expect trust but he'd been hoping for the beginnings of a mutual respect. When she found out about Reeves, she would hold him responsible and probably refuse to cooperate.

Dammit, he didn't have time for another vision quest, MacKenzie was to be his shortcut to his ancestors' spirits. Why were problems appearing now? Time was running out. Husam would set his portion of the plan in motion in less than twelve hours. Bander had chosen his method of retribution carefully. The Spanish missionaries who'd first invaded this land had deliberately unleashed European diseases among the native population, decimating the unsuspecting tribes. It seemed only fair that he return the favor. Their primary goal was the USS Nimitz, currently in port in San Diego. If everything went according to plan, they would turn the Nimitz into a plague ship. It would be a symbolic victory against the US government and its military. More importantly, Bander would be in a position to monitor the emergency response and gauge the effectiveness of the mutated disease. With that information, he would be able to tailor the pandemic that would next be unleashed in LA for maximum impact. It should be the tipping point, the final step towards panic, hysteria and anarchy.

Should was the operative word. Considering the obstacles that kept appearing, did he still have his ancestors' blessing? Was this their way of warning him? Should he move faster, slower? MacKenzie could provide the answers, if she was willing. Bander stopped pacing and once more faced the door to MacKenzie's room. Squaring his shoulders, he stepped forward, pulling the key out of his pocket and unlocking the door. He'd sent the guard outside earlier so he could think without an audience. Considering MacKenzie's condition, he didn't believe she posed much of a physical threat. Her spirit guides could be a problem but he planned on a calm, peaceful meeting. Taking a breath, he let himself into the room.

Mac had once again pushed herself into a sitting position as the door opened, having had warning from Avis. Her head was still pounding but not quite as fiercely. She watched as an older, stocky man let himself into the room. His close-cropped hair was turning gray and he was ruggedly handsome. Mac felt her stomach clench a little. The man was making no effort to conceal his identity. That couldn't be good.

"Colonel MacKenzie, how are you feeling?" Bander stayed by the door, surreptitiously surveying the rest of the room. She didn't appear angry. Perhaps she didn't know about the fire yet.

Mac looked at him silently, trying to decide if he was being solicitous or just making conversation. "Happy to have woken up," she finally answered, watching for his reaction. Somewhat to her surprise, he looked abashed. Mac suspected it wasn't something that happened often.

Bander glanced away for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck, "I apologize. I can assure you it won't happen again."

"He killed the man who injected you." Avis' voice came softly from the vicinity of Mac's left shoulder.

Her eyes widening in surprise, Mac stared at Bander, "You killed him?" She watched his eyes dart rapidly around the room.

"Would you mind if I sat down?" Avoiding the question for the moment, Bander gestured towards a chair near the side of the bed. He was feeling a curious mixture of alarm and elation. Obviously, MacKenzie was still in touch with her spirit guides. He would have to proceed carefully. When she nodded, he walked over and settled down, crossing his legs as he leaned back.

Mac eyed him cautiously. He wasn't showing the smug arrogance that Sadiq had. That actually might have made it easier. The lines had been clearly drawn back then and now she had a feeling they were going to blur. "You killed him?" she repeated.

Bander rubbed his chin and then glanced away with a sigh. "I gave him a warrior's death, which turned out to be more than he deserved. He might have killed you and I'm afraid," he paused and scrubbed at his forehead, "I'm afraid he killed Agent Reeves rather than following my orders."

"What?!" Mac's head jerked up and then she winced.

"He arranged to set the factory on fire. I'm truly sorry. I didn't know or I would have stopped it," Bander let some of his irritation show, hoping MacKenzie would realize he was blameless.

"Megan's dead?" Mac was half-talking to Bander and half to Avis. Oh god, what had she done? She should have never made that deal. Where was Kate?

"I'm sorry," Bander said again, silently damning JohnnyD once more. It had been a calculated risk telling MacKenzie about Reeves, something he shouldn't have had to waste precious time on. It was important now to not appear as if he was hiding anything - to show sympathy and remorse. Bander slowly stood up, deeming it time for a strategic retreat. He gestured towards the tray, "May I get you anything else? More water? Some tea?" When she shook her head, he walked out. Locking the door, Bander leaned up against it for a moment and then checked his watch. He would give MacKenzie an hour and then bring her some tea. He had to get her talking. The question was, would it be too risky to dose the tea? He'd used peyote on his vision quest and it'd been remarkably helpful. Would it be as useful with MacKenzie?

- - - - -

FBI Headquarters

Los Angeles, CA

2020 Local

Harm looked up as Don and Colby walked into the bullpen. The two agents looked as tired as he felt. He'd just finished up his latest report and posted it to General Cresswell. There would be a phone call in the morning that Harm definitely wasn't going to enjoy receiving. He leaned back, tilting his head towards Don, "Did you talk to Megan?"

Don snorted as he nodded. He wasn't sure what the hell to make of that conversation. Worse, he wasn't sure what to write in his report. If he put down what she'd said verbatim, the psych boys would be on her like bees on honey. Thankfully, Colby had turned off the recorder early after sharing a glance with Don. The debriefing had turned into an unofficial chat. It wasn't that he didn't want to believe her - clearly some things defied rational explanation, but ghosts? No way.

"She told you about Kate and Avis?" Harm could tell Don wasn't any more receptive to this than Charlie. Hell, it was understandable. If it hadn't been for his own experiences as well as Mac's, he'd be scoffing too. Of course, that didn't mean he intended to air his beliefs outside of their team. Harm had carefully edited any paranormal mention out of his report to the JAG.

Don scowled at the Naval Commander, "You sound like you believe her story." He shifted uncomfortably when Harm gave him a steady stare and finally rubbed the back of his neck. "Hell, it's not like I don't want to believe her. Megan's always been rock-solid, but this - "

"It explains how she made it out of that building without being able to see," Harm pointed out gently. "No one is that lucky."

"I know that," Don dropped into his chair and swiveled back to Harm, "But that's what I going with in my report. Officially, it was a damn miracle. Unofficially," Don leaned back, "Why do you believe her?"

It was Harm's turn to shift uncomfortably. "Because Mac told me earlier that she'd seen Kate. She thought she'd been dreaming," he hurried to explain, "And that's what I thought too, until this happened." He shook his head, "Believe me, if there were any two women who wouldn't let death slow them down, it would be Kate and Avis."

Don stared at Rabb for a long moment and then glanced away in frustration, "True or not, it doesn't help us much. McKlellan may or may not be dead, the terrorist cell is out there somewhere and Mac is still missing. There's not a hell of a lot to go on."

"Except for Bander and Liwanu Enterprises," Harm pointed out. "And it's possible Mac could buy us some time if he's the one behind the terrorists. Megan said he wanted to talk to her and her 'spirit guides'. What if he's basing his plans on some mystic mumbo-jumbo? Hell, Hitler did. Mac might be able to stall him."

"That's assuming she figures it all out and it is Bander," Don held up a hand as Harm started to open his mouth. "Megan's pretty sure she's got a concussion. That's going to affect her and you know it." He glanced around the bullpen. David and Colby had their heads together over by David's computer. No doubt Colby was getting David up to speed on Megan. "Is Charlie still here?"

Harm nodded towards the conference room, "He thinks Liwanu is the key. He's tracking down their holdings, looking for someplace they might have put Mac."

"I guess I need to go talk to him," Don levered himself up. He looked over at Harm, "Why don't you call it a night? Go get some rest. You haven't been out of the hospital that long either. Get a fresh start in the morning."

Harm started to shake his head when, as if on cue, a wave of exhaustion rolled over him. God, he was tired. "Okay," he said simply. With an effort, he pushed himself out of the chair.

Don eyed him for a moment and then turned towards Granger and Sinclair, "Hey Colby, do me a favor and take Harm to his hotel, would you? I don't think he should be driving."

Colby glanced at Rabb as he walked over and nodded, "Sure, let's go Commander." Neither man said anything as they walked over to the elevators. Once inside, Colby shot a sideways look at Harm, "We'll find Mac." Harm nodded silently and quiet descended again. It wasn't until they were in the car that Colby cleared his throat and glanced at Harm again, "What did you make of Megan's story?"

"I think she's telling the truth," Harm replied quietly.

Colby's eyebrows went up, "Seriously? Ghosts?" He could kind of see Larry's acceptance of the story. The physicist had an eclectic set of beliefs, not to mention being in love with Megan. Colby was having a harder time with the JAG officer's matter-of-fact agreement. Weren't lawyers supposed to be skeptical of practically everything?

Harm sighed a little, leaning back into the headrest, "I don't discount testimony just because it doesn't jibe with my beliefs. What she said fits the facts that we know."

"You'd have a hell of time proving that in court," Colby argued. He was in somewhat of a quandary. Megan had been calmly adamant about her ordeal and he wanted to believe her but how could it be true?

"I'd have a harder time proving dumb luck got her out of that building in time," Harm retorted. He glanced over at Colby, "Would this be easier to believe if she'd substituted 'guardian angel' for ghost?"

Colby started to shake his head and then stopped. He was chagrined to realize it was true. Chalking up Megan's escape to a religious miracle was more palatable than crediting a ghost. He shot Harm a wry look, "Now I know why you're such a good lawyer."

Harm chuckled, "Thank you - I think." Twenty minutes later, he was staring out the hotel window, wondering if Mac was somewhere in his line of vision. What had she seen when she looked out? She'd never said exactly. With a sigh, he turned away to begin getting ready for bed. Hopefully, there'd be something to go on in the morning. Colby, after walking Harm to his door, had headed back to the office. Apparently Don and his team were going to be pulling an all-nighter, for which Harm was grateful. He still didn't have his stamina back. Shortly thereafter, he climbed wearily into bed wishing Mac was with him.

At first, his rest was fitful but then he sank deeper into sleep. It was no surprise to suddenly find himself in a pretty little mountain meadow with Avis by his side. She gave him a bright smile, "It's good to see you again, Commander." He nodded silently and she turned back to gaze at the scenery, "I love this place. Avril proposed to me here. The first time I was with child, I brought him up here to tell him. He was so excited. It was all I could do to keep him from carrying me all the way back down to the house." She glanced at Harm, "You and Sarah will be wonderful parents."

Shocked, Harm turned to stare at her, "But Mac..."

Avis shook her head, "There are a number of children you will take as your own - each one a separate treasure. One will be yours. A little girl with brown hair, dark eyes and a bright, cheerful soul. Guard them all well - they will make a difference in this world."

Harm opened and closed his mouth soundlessly for a moment. A little girl? Elation and joy swept through him, followed instantly by worry. He fixed Avis with an anxious stare, "Where is she?"

"I don't know," Avis sighed and waved a hand. The meadow disappeared to be replaced by a flat, endless gray plain. Dark figures and bright points of light spotted the landscape. "This plane of existence is different. I know how to find Sarah and I can describe her immediate vicinity but I couldn't tell you where she is."

"But we're going to find her? I mean, we have to, right? She's okay? We're going to have a baby." He knew he was babbling but he couldn't help it.

"Commander," Avis interrupted him, her expression serious. "There are any number of paths your lives can take, nothing is carved in stone. What I see is likely but not guaranteed. Complacency about your future will most certainly change it. You both must continue on as you have."

"But then why...?" Harm stared at her in confusion.

Avis gave him another brilliant smile, "Because hope is a beacon in the darkness."

Harm sat up abruptly, blinking the sleep from his eyes, and then groaned softly as his shoulder protested the sudden move. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced over at the clock, 12:30 am. With a sigh, he pulled the covers off and got up, heading for the bathroom and a glass of water. Returning to the main room, he took a few sips as he stared out the window again. Mac was somewhere out there and he would find her. It was simple as that.

- - - - -

Undisclosed location

2310 Local

Mac lay on the bed with an arm across her eyes. Her room was windowless with a single recessed light in the ceiling. It was on and had been since she'd first woken up. The switch had to be outside the door, there wasn't anything in the room. The old man had reappeared a little over an hour after his first exit. He'd brought hot tea with him, along with a container of honey. He hadn't said much beyond explaining that the tea was herbal and hoping it made her feel better. Apparently he'd also anticipated her wariness in accepting anything. He'd let her choose which cup and then drunk his first. The tea had been soothing but that was about it. There'd been a strange aftertaste that she chalked up to whatever herbs had been used but nothing alarming had happened. The man had excused himself not long after she'd finished the tea and she hadn't seen him again. Instead, her guards had taken to popping in at odd intervals, making enough noise to keep her awake. It was never longer than an hour but other than that, the time varied widely. Each was always excruciatingly polite, apologizing for disturbing her and asking how she felt.

Mac couldn't decide if they were worried about her concussion or if they were trying to screw with her head by not letting her sleep. She smiled grimly to herself. If they were trying to confuse her about how long she'd been here, it was a losing battle. Her time sense was still operating, a fact she wasn't planning on sharing. Let them think she was becoming disoriented. If it meant her guards became a little more lax, so much the better. She still hadn't heard from Kate and that was worrying. Avis hadn't been in contact with her either although she assured Mac that she could feel Kate's presence. Mac tried to keep from obsessing about Megan. Without confirmation from Kate, she didn't know if it was true. She was a prisoner and it could just be another ploy to mess with her and keep her off-balance.

"He's here again," Avis spoke up from across the room.

Wearily, Mac pulled herself upright again, closing her eyes against a spate of dizziness. She couldn't tell if it was from the concussion or the fact that she was dead tired.

"Are you feeling worse?" Avis sounded anxious.

Mac carefully shook her head. "Head rush, I think I sat up too quickly. I'm dizzy," she added when Avis didn't respond right away. Apparently she still had the ability to confound Avis with twenty-first century expressions.

Bander nodded to the guard to open the door and then walked in carrying another tray of tea. He smiled brightly and hefted the tray, "Colonel MacKenzie, I thought you might like some more tea." He looked her over carefully, noting that she seemed a bit more haggard. That was good. Her concussion was actually playing into his hands. The faster he could alter her mental state, the sooner he could use her as a conduit to his ancestors. He'd laced the tea again with peyote. It was only half of the usual amount taken but he was hoping it would be enough to affect her. He needed her to be open and relaxed to the arguments he was about to make. She needed to see that he was justified in his actions. Bander glanced around the room again. He also had to appear as non-threatening as possible. MacKenzie's spirit guides could disrupt everything if they suspected anything was amiss.

Setting the tray down, he poured two cups of tea, adding a dollop of honey to each. Politely, he handed her the saucer and cup, noting with satisfaction the slight tremor in her hands. Sitting down, he took the first sip as he'd done before, smiling with pleasure as he leaned back. As expected, the Colonel waited until he'd finished nearly half before drinking her own tea. Her caution was laudable but she obviously hadn't considered that he might have a tolerance for whatever she suspected he'd done. They continued drinking in silence. Bander finished first, placing his cup back on the tray. His hand hovered over the teapot, "Would you care for some more?"

Mac shook her head, her movements slightly more sluggish than they'd been several hours before. Bander noticed the teacup beginning to tilt and and deftly rescued it, "Are you feeling all right?"

"Tired," Mac blinked a couple of times. Lack of sleep was suddenly catching up with her. She shivered slightly.

She turned as if to lay down and Bander put a hand out, "Now Colonel, you know you shouldn't sleep with a head injury. Why don't we talk instead?"

"About what?" Mac did her best to focus on the old man. He was probably right about not sleeping but damn, she was exhausted.

"Our common history," Bander smiled at her and stood up. She was swaying as she sat and he didn't need her to fall off the bed. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable?" He arranged the pillows behind her so she could stay upright and gallantly helped her lean back, "Are you sure you wouldn't like another cup of tea?"

Mac shook her head and squinted at him. The room seemed brighter somehow. She took a breath, trying to pull her concentration together, "Common history?"

"You're Cherokee, I'm Miwok. We're both of the People. We share a heritage," Bander sat on the edge of the bed so he could see her easily. "It's a heritage that's on the verge of being destroyed and it's the US government that's holding the knife to our throat. We cannot allow that to happen. So many thousands - hundreds of thousands - have died. Someone must survive to speak for them."

"You?" Mac blinked again, trying to focus on the man's voice. It was a deep and soothing baritone and she couldn't help but listen as he went on and on about the atrocities his - their - people had suffered. She began to feel anxious as he listed appalling fact after appalling fact about murders, rape, disease and starvation. It was a miracle any of them survived. Caught up in his words, Mac jumped a little as a teacup was placed in her hand.

Bander kept his hands wrapped around both to keep her from spilling and then gave Mac a smile when she finally managed to look at him, "I'm afraid I'm boring you. You looked like you were dozing off so I poured you some more tea." He kept a hand close as she automatically brought the teacup up to her lips. Bander had to work to keep the elation off his face as he watched her drink it all down. This was going better than he'd hoped. MacKenzie was obviously feeling the effects of the earlier dose of peyote and now he'd managed to get two more into her. He would have his answers soon.

Mac leaned back into the pillows, feeling slightly more awake. The caffeine and honey had managed to provide a bit of a jolt to her system. It wouldn't last long, though, and then she'd be back to feeling loopy from the concussion and lack of sleep. She decided to cut to the chase, "What do you want from me?"

Bander stared at her for a moment. "Answers," he said finally. "My - our - ancestors' spirits have the answers to a number of pressing questions and I'm hoping you'll consent to be their voice."

"Questions?" Mac echoed faintly. Damn this concussion, there was something important she needed to connect and she couldn't get her mind to process it. Bander was speaking again, his voice somehow cutting through the confusion. He was describing once again in horrific detail how smallpox had ravaged the native population, wiping out villages and leaving the dead where they'd fallen. It was so vivid.

Mac gave a start and then looked around with wild eyes. She was walking down a well-worn path towards a clearing. The setting was idyllic but she was shaking with dread. The raucous sound of crows startled her and then she realized the air was pungent with smell of decaying flesh. Suddenly, she was in the middle of her village and scenes of nightmare. Bodies lay everywhere, clouds of flies competing with the crows and vultures. Tears streamed down her face as she turned slowly in a circle. Her family, her friends, her neighbors - all dead. Her breath caught in her chest when several dark figures appeared at the far end of the village. As they moved closer, she recognized the pale, bearded faces and black robes. These were the outsiders - and they were coming for her. Rage warred with terror and then she was screaming at them.

She jumped again when a figure suddenly appeared beside her. It was an impossibly pale woman with corn-colored hair and she seemed to glow in the sunshine. She moved between Mac and the advancing men, her manner intense, "Sarah, stop this. It is not your past - you don't belong here."

Mac took a step back, shaking her head in confusion. She'd understood the words but the language seemed wrong. Her gaze was inexorably drawn to the men and her fear kicked up another notch. They were so much closer. The pale woman stepped into her line of vision again, "This is a trick. It's not real. They cannot hurt you but they can get you to harm yourself. You must leave."

Mac stared at the woman and then at the men. The fear was almost a physical entity now, holding her down, freezing her blood. Finally, she did the only thing she could think of. She turned to the woman, "Help me." The woman smiled and nodded, reaching forward with a glowing hand. There was a brilliant flash of light and then utter darkness.


	28. Chapter 28

Well, this has been a lousy couple of weeks. We got slammed at work and rather than spending 10 hours a day at work, I've been bringing it home. The paycheck will look pretty good but it seriously cut into my free time. Not only didn't I have time to write, I wound up skipping practices as well - which probably helps explain the tournament this last Sunday that I tanked. *sigh*. Anyway, I truly apologize for the long delay. While it's eased a little bit, I'm still bringing work home. So, while I'm can't promise there won't be any more long periods between updates - I will do my best to avoid them. Hope you all enjoy this.

Chapter 28

Monday,

Undisclosed location

2350 local

Bander shot out of his chair when the MacKenzie woman suddenly bolted upright, looking absolutely terrified, "Colonel MacKenzie?" She didn't respond but continued to stare off into space, her pupils so dilated that her eyes looked black. Bander leaned back in, his entire body taut with anticipation. This had to be it. He ignored the increasing coldness in the room, "Colonel? What is it? What do you see?" Her body jerked, then stiffened and then a torrent of words started pouring out. Bander straightened in shock. She was speaking another language. It was Miwok, he thought, but the dialect was odd and some of the words were unfamiliar. He listened intently, trying to commit the words to memory. MacKenzie seemed to repeating herself, or at least, repeating certain phrases.

Abruptly, she stopped and he nearly swore in frustration. Her body held rigid for another few seconds and then MacKenzie slumped forward, panting like she'd just finished a race. He did swear at that point, reaching forward to grab her arm. There had to be more. His vision had gone on for hours. He never reached her. A mist-like substance appeared, rapidly coalescing into a woman's face, hideously distorted and obviously enraged. Bander yanked his hand back and retreated towards the center of the room. Then he straightened slowly, his own expression darkening. "James! Lonnie! Get in here!" he snapped over his shoulder. Moments later, two men hustled in, guns drawn. They stopped in shock, staring at the apparition and then looked at Bander uncertainly.

"Spread out and aim at MacKenzie," he ordered. "Do it!" he barked when they hesitated. Warily, they did as they were told, eyes still wide as they continued to stare. Satisfied, Bander turned back. It was disconcerting, looking at the bodiless face. The light was pulsing angrily and Bander could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Ignoring that, he took a step forward, his own expression menacing, "You will leave now or my men will kill MacKenzie. I doubt you could stop them both." The room was so cold now, he could see his breath. To his great satisfaction, the spirit retreated a step. He pressed his advantage, taking another step forward, "Go! Now!" His men, emboldened by Bander's example, firmed up their stances, their weapons aimed directly at Mac's head.

The apparition winked out suddenly and Bander couldn't help grinning in triumph. He stepped confidently towards the bed and then all the lights went out. Bander froze as he heard his men swear in surprise. He waited a few seconds and when nothing happened, relaxed slightly. "One of you go get a flashlight," he ordered as he put a hand out and took another step towards MacKenzie. A moment later, he doubled over gasping in pain. It felt like someone had taken a bat to his solar plexus. He was still struggling to breathe when another blow lifted him off his feet and sent him careening backwards. He crashed into another body and they both went down in a tangle of arms and legs. Dimly, he heard James scream and then he passed out.

"Where have you been?" Avis asked Kate as they turned towards Mac.

"The funeral is tomorrow. Ducky released my body. Dad and my brother came to escort me back to Indiana," Kate sounded subdued. "Dad looked so... old."

"I'm sorry," Avis replied quietly. "It's never easy to bury a child." She and Avril had lost several children and the grief had never entirely gone away.

"Well, one funeral is enough." Kate's voice became more determined, "What's wrong with Mac?"

"He drugged her. It had to have been the tea but he drank it, too, and he was fine," Avis said in frustration.

"'The Princess Bride'", Kate moved closer to the bed. Dinozzo's penchant for equating movies with cases must have rubbed off on her. "Mac? Can you hear me?" The Colonel had her face in her hands and she was shaking slightly.

"Sarah? We have to leave," Confused, Avis moved in on the other side. Who in the world was the princess bride and what could it possibly have to do with Sarah? Kate's answer would have to be explained later.

Mac lifted her head a little. "I feel funny," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "My head hurts."

"Snap to, Colonel," Kate ordered firmly, deciding the best way to cut through the drug-induced haze was to address the Marine. "It's time to move out."

Mac straightened slowly and nodded, feeling her head swim. Things were wrong, physically and mentally, but Kate would keep her on track. She dragged her legs off the side of the bed and sat for a moment, gathering herself. Avis was murmuring encouragement. Clenching her jaw, Mac lurched upright and then staggered sideways, hitting the nightstand and knocking the tray containing the tea to the floor. She winced at the crash even as she grabbed the table to stay upright.

"Move it, Marine!" Kate snapped. They had to get out of here. She would be nice later.

Gritting her teeth, Mac stepped forward, one hand out towards the wall. The disjointed feeling was alarming. She felt like a puppet whose strings had been cut. "It's dark," she muttered, more for something to say than because it was a problem. It was actually easier to see now than when the lights were on. They had become blindingly bright. Slowly she moved out of the room, staying near the wall in case her horizon started to tip. Avis stayed close, maintaining a comforting commentary and keeping Mac's anxiety at bay. Kate sounded like she was ranging back and forth. While it seemed like it took an eternity to get out of the small house, it had only been - Mac stiffened suddenly, causing a misstep that sent her to her knees. She had no idea what time it was.

"Sarah?" Avis was right next to her.

Mac shook her head and immediately regretted it. "Where are we?" she asked instead. What the hell had happened? It had to have been the old man but what exactly had he done? More importantly, how long was it going to last? Her mind was already playing tricks on her. Things - figures, really, were appearing in her peripheral vision and then disappearing. There were noises, too. Faded, like it was coming from a distance, a muted roar that chilled her with its despair and rage. She could only hope it never got louder.

"Not sure, the foothills maybe?" Kate answered from behind. "Either way, we need to get some distance before those guys wake up and start looking for you." Not bothering to answer, Mac climbed unsteadily to her feet and started moving.

Tuesday,

FBI Headquarters

Los Angeles, CA

0130 Local

Charlie leaned against the door frame of the conference room and rubbed his eyes, "Don? You got a minute?"

Don looked up from his computer screen, "Yeah, sure." Rising to his feet, he took a moment to stretch before scrubbing fingers through his hair. Don glanced over to where Colby was catching a quick nap, his feet propped up on his desk. These 24-hour shifts just got harder as he got older but he couldn't shake the feeling that time was getting short. He followed Charlie into the conference room, "You find something?"

"I'm not sure," Charlie admitted as he turned back into the conference room. "I've been looking into Liwanu Enterprises, both at their holdings and, well, anything that might give us a handle on this terrorist group."

Don leaned against a desk and folded his arms, "So what did you come up with?"

Charlie sighed, "Liwanu has a massive amount of holdings. They own a number of small to medium sized businesses in a whole range of fields." He sat down at his laptop and started tapping out commands, "Did you know Liwanu is connected to a company that supplies the software for the machinery that distills water aboard Navy ships? And that the USS Nimitz is due for an upgrade in the next day or so?"

Don stared at his brother as his mind galloped through the ramifications and then frowned after a moment, "How did you find that out? Doesn't the Navy keep that sort of thing classified?"

Charlie shifted uncomfortably and shrugged a little, "I may have called in a favor or two. It does concern national security."

"Right," Don shook his head. He kept forgetting how much outside work Charlie did and had done for other agencies. He took a breath, "So they're going to tamper with the water? Make it look clean when it isn't?"

"I don't think it would be that simple," Charlie said slowly. "Once the crew started getting sick, a water test would tell them what the problem was."

"So why sabotage the software?"

"So it can't tell you that the water's been sabotaged?" Charlie leaned back, "I've been reading through the history of Native Americans in California. Did you know the Spanish missionaries that first arrived here enslaved the native tribes, released non-indigenous livestock that destroyed a major portion of their diet and then deliberately spread European diseases? If Bander is looking for revenge, how apropos would it be if he released some sort disease aboard the Nimitz? It's a contained environment. Depending on what he uses, it could move like wildfire through the ship and if it's a designer version, they won't be allowed to return to port until the CDC figures out how to contain it."

Now it was Don who was shifting uncomfortably. Disease as bio-terrorism was one of his worst nightmares. Scientists had been warning the world for years about the possibility of a pandemic with the bird flu and reporting gloomily about how unprepared most governments were. A mutated disease coming out of left field could catch everyone off-guard. "But if he's looking for revenge, why choose a Navy ship? You said it yourself, it's a contained environment. The disease could only spread so far." He couldn't help wincing inwardly as he said that. He'd just suggested that the entire crew of, what - five, six thousand people, were expendable.

Charlie looked as unhappy as Don, "It's a lab experiment. He must not know how well whatever he's got is going to work so he chooses a controlled environment for a test." He glanced down at his laptop, "I've been running different scenarios through the algorithms and this one keeps coming up as most likely."

"But the upgrade doesn't happen for another day or so, so we still have time to stop it," Don rubbed the back of his neck.

"Except that we don't know how he's planning to release the disease or when," Charlie pointed out. "It must have something to do with the water but that's still a pretty big area. The Nimitz has four distilling units that make over 400,000 gallons of potable water per day. He could be after one or all of them."

"And he still has to get on board. How's he going to do that? You can't just stroll onto a Navy ship. At least, not the last time I looked," Don got up to pace. After a few seconds, he pulled out his cell, "We need Rabb back here."

"Now? Don, it's," Charlie looked at his watch, "after 1:30."

"And these guys could already be trying to get on the ship. Rabb might have an idea how they would go about pulling this off. He's served on carriers before."

"He's gonna want to know if we've made any progress in finding the Colonel. What do we tell him? 'Sorry, we decided to go with the more important stuff. Can you quit worrying about Mac for while and give us a hand?'" Charlie asked. "Let me have a couple more hours to see what I can come up with."

Don shook his head, "We're running out of time. I need to contact NCIS and Homeland Security and I'd rather have something more concrete to offer." He punched in the hotel number and then gave the desk Harm's room number. When there was no answer, Don shook his head as he hung up and then redialed. This time he asked for Mac's room number. After a couple of rings, he heard Rabb say 'Hello?'. Don turned slightly away from Charlie, "Hey Harm, it's Don. We think the terrorists are after the Nimitz. I need you back here... yeah... okay, good... I'll come pick you up in a few... yeah, thanks, man." He ended the call and glanced over to find Charlie watching, "What? Look, it didn't sound like Harm was sleeping anyway. He might as well do something constructive." When Charlie raised an eyebrow, Don shrugged, "I'm going to go pick him up. Why don't you figure how where they might have taken Mac?" With that, he turned and strode out of the room, leaving his brother shaking his head.

- - - - -

Tuesday,

Executive Towers Hotel

0220 Local

Harm finished tucking in his uniform blouse and then slid his arm back into the sling. It was getting easier with practice. He checked his watch once more and then turned back to gaze out the window. Don should be here any time now. It was somewhat of a relief when Eppes had called. Harm hadn't been able to get back to sleep since his dream of Avis Payne. He been arguing with himself about it. On one hand, he desperately wanted to believe it wasn't just a dream but an actual visit from Avis' spirit. On the other, it was probably just his subconscious giving him what he hoped and prayed for.

Hearing a quiet knock, Harm headed towards the door, grabbing his cover as he went. Stepping out into the hallway, he fell in beside a tired-looking Don Eppes. Neither man spoke until they'd climbed into Don's SUV. Harm wrestled with the seatbelt for a moment before finally clicking it into place. He looked over at Don, "The Nimitz? Are you sure?"

Don shrugged a little, looking both ways before pulling out onto the street. He automatically checked mirrors for anything suspicious. LA, like New York, never truly slept so there was always some traffic about. He knew they were close to breaking this case and had no intentions of being caught unaware. He finally looked back at Harm, "As certain as Charlie can be about this stuff. What he's saying makes sense - in a twisted sort of way. He thinks Bander's targeting the Nimitz for bio-terrorism, using the ship as a testing ground for whatever he's got. The question is how's he going to get it on board?"

Harm scrubbed at his jaw, "I can think of a couple of ways." He looked over at Don, "Being at Ventura is making a little more sense. The base provides service support for fleet operations. They use civilian contractors, in addition to military personnel. If the Nimitz is in port for a refit before the next deployment then that could be how he's going to do it." Don grunted thoughtfully and there was a brief spate of silence. Harm cleared his throat, "Has Charlie had any time to figure out where Mac might be?"

Don gave him a sideways look, "I think he's working on it now. Look, Harm - "

"Don't worry about it," Harm interrupted as he shook his head, "I know your first priority is this terrorist cell." He turned back to gaze out the window. Logically, he knew that was true but the reality was a little harder to take and he didn't want to snap at Don about it. Harm took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He needed to get his head back in the game. Mac would understand. Hell, she'd kick his six to the curb and back if she found out he'd neglected his obligations, his duty, because of his fear for her. Right now, first priority was finding and stopping the terrorist cell. After that, all bets were off until he'd located Mac.

Silence fell again until they reached the bullpen. Colby was awake once more and both he and David were diligently typing away at their computers. Don took it as a hopeful sign that they'd gotten a break on collaborating Charlie's theory. Colby glanced up first as they approached, frowning just a little when he saw Harm. Last he'd heard, the Commander was taking a break. Shaking his head, he focused on Don, "Hey, I think we might be on to something."

"Yeah?" Don couldn't help sounding hopeful.

"Yeah," David answered, turning from his own computer. "We found one of the contractors at Ventura hired half a dozen more workers two weeks ago and it's not that big a firm. They're scheduled to deliver generator parts to the Nimitz tomorrow."

"Is there a connection to Liwanu?" Don grew more intense.

"Not officially, it's not a subsidiary," David paused for a brief second to glance at the screen, "But the contractor is Vince Hawks, who happens to be half Miwok, like Bander."

Harm moved in closer, "Can you pull up who he hired?" If either Husam or Rashid were part of the group, they had confirmation of their terrorist cell - or, at least, a good chunk of it.

"'Fraid not," Colby answered this time. "He didn't post this online. We were going over contractor records and noticed the increase in personnel at Hawks' company. Like David said, it's not a big company, six new hires stood out."

"When are they making the delivery?" Don jumped back in.

When Colby started to shrug, Harm moved to a phone, "I can probably get an answer to that. I need to alert the San Diego NCIS office anyway." He glanced over at Don who nodded his agreement, "It's not going to take six guys to deliver parts, just one or two. Is there any other government contracts with Hawks?" Harm directed his last question to David and Colby. Both men turned back to their computers and started typing again. Harm watched them for a second and then picked up the handset, "How do I dial out of here?"

- - - - - -

Tuesday,

Undisclosed location

0045 Local

Bander looked up and scowled as James and Lonnie walked back in the house. "Nothing?"

James shook his head, "It's black as pitch out there, sir. She could be ten feet away and if we missed her with the flashlights, we'd pass her right by."

"Dammit!" Bander thumped a fist on the arm of the chair he was sitting in and then winced. He felt like he'd been run over by a truck. His body ached and his head was pounding relentlessly. The worst part was that he'd made a huge mistake. He'd begun by attempting to ingratiate himself with MacKenzie and was pretty sure he'd been succeeding when she'd gone into her vision. Surprised, he'd gotten greedy. When she stopped, he'd fallen back into old habits and tried to force her to continue. He'd arrogantly assumed he could handle MacKenzie's guardians. Well, he'd learned his lesson. Bander gingerly rubbed his temple and then glanced up at James and Lonnie. They were still by the front door, patently expecting some sort of punishment. He waved a hand, "It's all right, I know you did your best. Why don't you both turn in and we'll get a fresh start at daybreak?"

The two men exchanged startled glances and then nodded slowly. After they left, Bander propped an elbow on the armchair and rested his chin on his fist. Dawn would be in about 6 hours. The peyote usually lasted from 12 to 14 hours so MacKenzie could still be experiencing visions when they caught up with her. His biggest fear was that she would wander off a cliff or fall into a ravine and break her fool neck before he could talk to her again. There'd been one bright spot in this whole mess and that had been the words she'd spoken earlier. The language had been that of the Miwok but a number of words had been unfamiliar. He'd gotten the gist of it, however. She'd been calling on the gods for the death and destruction of the invaders. Bander smiled grimly to himself. His ancestors had finally made themselves clear and he had every intention of fulfilling their request. Husam and his group were in position and awaiting his word. They would get that word in the morning. This house was isolated in almost every way, including cellphone reception. He would have to drive out to the main road and head north a little ways.

In the meantime - Bander heaved himself up and limped over to the window. Staring out into the inky darkness, he considered his options. He had every confidence they would find MacKenzie in the morning. There was no way she could have gotten far in her condition, guardian spirits or not. Once he had her back, he would have to decide what to do with her. It was as a conduit to the spirit world that she was most useful. That would probably require keeping her on the peyote. While he knew of practitioners who used it regularly without adverse side effects, he didn't know of anyone who'd ever stayed on it 24/7. It probably wasn't a good idea. He truly didn't want to kill her, he just wanted her under his control.

Bander leaned his head against the windowpane as he continued to gaze out into the night. Those damned spirit guides of hers complicated everything. Despite what Johnny had said, he hadn't really believed that spirits could harm a person physically. He touched his abdomen and grimaced, he certainly believed it now. So, anything he attempted with MacKenzie would have to take her guardians into account. Either he'd have to be extremely clever and get MacKenzie's willing cooperation or he'd have to place her in a situation where opposition to his wishes from either her or her guardians would result in death. He smiled grimly to himself. Of course, maneuvering her into that sort of situation would require a great deal of ingenuity as well. First and foremost, however, they had to find her.

- - - - -

Unknown location

0120 Local

Mac put a tentative hand out until she made contact with the bark of the large tree in front of her. With a bit of a cross between a tired sigh and groan, she used its support to lower herself to the ground. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back against the tree trunk. At some point this nightmare had to end. She was tired and not just physically. She was tired of being hunted, tired of feeling like she was stumbling through a funhouse, tired of the disturbing images and sounds that kept impinging on her consciousness.

Kate and Avis had helped keep her from being caught again, steering her away from the lights that swept the area. Wherever this place was, there was very little else around aside from trees and rocks. She'd crossed what could charitably be called a road - two dirt tracks worn into the flora. The only sounds were those of the night creatures, crickets, frogs, cicadas and an occasional owl. There weren't any traffic sounds, no reflective glow of city lights, nothing to tell her where the hell she might be - and she still didn't know what time it was. That had her more rattled than she cared to admit. She'd experienced temporary lapses before but that was all they'd been - temporary. Mac couldn't help the slight smile as she remembered that Harm had a foolproof method of making her lose track. She sobered quickly knowing he had to be out of his mind with worry. Opening her eyes, she stared out into the dark. There was no moon, making the stars even more brilliant. Mac smiled again, remembering another beautiful night when Harm had pretended to snatch a star out of the sky and then presented her with a diamond engagement ring. So much had happened since then and through it all, her sailor had been phenomenal. She still didn't know exactly what she'd ever done to deserve someone like him. Mac swiped at her eyes before looking up at the sky. She would get through this somehow and get back to him.

As she stared up at the stars, a deeper darkness slid away from the shadows under the trees. Mac caught the movement out of the corner of her eye and stiffened. She watched as it was joined by others, forming a loose circle. Mac pushed herself back harder against the tree, her heart pounding faster. This was new, "Kate? Avis?" Her voice quavered slightly. She already learned not to trust her perceptions very much. The line between real and surreal was blurred and she couldn't tell if the shadows were actually there or if her mind was screwing with her again.

"We're here, Sarah," Avis' voice came from her right side.

"Do you see them?" Mac whispered uncertainly.

"See what?" Kate's voice came from her other side.

"Oh god, not again" Mac muttered, blinking rapidly a couple of times. It did nothing to clear her vision. The shadows advanced suddenly and she jerked back, wincing as she banged her head on the tree. "It's not real," she told herself firmly but her body didn't seem to be listening. Her heart was hammering and she was beginning to shake. The background roar was becoming louder, individual voices becoming more distinct. They were screaming in fear and despair.

The shadows moved again, becoming larger and darker. Unable to control her reaction, Mac scrambled backwards. Her hand slipped on a large rock and she glanced down and then recoiled in horror. The rock was a skull. It was then she realized the ground around the tree was covered with bones. Mac struggled to her feet, trying not to touch anything. Panting, she braced against the trunk and squeezed her eyes shut, on the edge of panic. The terror-filled screaming filled her mind and ears making it nearly impossible to think. Mac could literally feel her control slipping away. Suddenly she bolted, desperate to escape.

"Mac!" "Sarah!" Kate and Avis spoke at nearly the same time and then took off after the Marine. They easily kept up but neither could convince her to stop her stumbling flight. Mac was beyond listening.

Avis couldn't help wincing every time Sarah careened into a tree or tripped and hit the ground. Each time, the woman staggered up and continued her flight. Whatever she was seeing or hearing in her drug-induced haze had her in a blind panic. At some point, her body would simply refuse to continue. Knowing just how stubborn Sarah was, Avis was frightened that her physical collapse could be closely followed by death. "Can you stop her?" she called to Kate. Sarah's pace was beginning to slow.

"Not for long," Kate answered grimly from her position just in front of the Marine Colonel. The longest she'd been able to maintain physical contact had been about 45 seconds and that had been with Avis' help. That wouldn't be nearly enough. "Can you get through to her when I do?"

"I must."

Kate grimaced at the clear implications behind that statement, "Okay, get ready." A minute or so later, Mac stumbled and Kate made her move. Catching her on the shoulder, Kate knocked the brunette over onto her back and then pinned her shoulders to the ground. "Avis! Now!" Kate ground out as she tried to hold the frantically struggling Marine. She caught a flash of movement, Mac went rigid for a split second and then completely limp. Worried, Kate released her hold, "Mac? Can you hear me?" She glanced around and realized with a start that Avis was gone, too.


	29. Chapter 29

Just want to give everyone a heads-up. I am off to Atlanta for another national level tournament next weekend and I'll be gone for four days. My trusty laptop is making the trip as well because I'm hoping to get some writing done while hanging out in airports and at the hotel after each day's events. That's the plan anyway - subject to change, depending on what's going on. So - I will either get lots done or - my brain will cramp with everything else it has to deal with and I will spend my spare hours staring at a blank screen. I'm hoping for the former but I've done the latter so y'all will just have to bear with me.

Thanks to all who have taken the time to review. It's interesting, and sometimes surprising, to read your takes on what I've been writing. I appreciate it (can't believe I misspelled Larry's last name. I KNOW there's a 'd' in there but did I type it? Nooooo - sheesh). Hope everyone enjoys this latest chapter. Now I have to get back to the work I brought home.

- - - - - - - - - -

Chapter 29

Tuesday,

FBI Headquarters

Los Angeles, CA

0245 Local

Charlie sighed as he watched Harm pace back and forth in the conference room. Paced wasn't exactly the correct term, marching would be more accurate. It was fascinating, in an annoying kind of way. The Commander's stride was precise both in length and duration. Despite his long legs, the distance between steps was shorter than his normal stride. Charlie estimated it to be around 30 inches. Harm took four steps, executed an about-face and repeated the sequence in the other direction. For some reason, Charlie had never equated marching with the Navy. He cleared his throat and when that had no effect, finally spoke up, "Umm, Harm?"

"Yes?" Harm stopped and looked over at the young professor.

Charlie shifted a bit while he tried to think of a polite way to tell the Commander to sit down or get out. Contrary to Don's opinion that he zoned out of everything else while immersed in his beloved numbers, Charlie was usually aware of activities going on around him. It as his 'geek survival sense', something he never tried to explain to Don. While they were growing up, his brother was one of the jocks, a predator on the public school evolutionary scale, and Charlie was a geek, aka: prey. Prey did not last long in school without some sort of early warning system. It had been underdeveloped when he entered high school, hence Don being forced into the role of reluctant protector. Their mother had literally thrown Charlie in at the deep end and, even with his considerable intellect, there had been a steep learning curve. By graduation, that sense had been honed to a razor's edge and Charlie had needed every bit of it when he entered Princeton at age 13. At this point in his life, Charlie no longer worried about the predators. That didn't mean he ignored what was going on around him while working. He just didn't bother to acknowledge it or allow the distraction - most of the time. However, when he was exhausted or stressed, little things became big things - like keying in on the nearly hypnotic syncopation of Harm's marching.

Charlie gestured towards a chair, "Why do you believe what Megan said about everything that happened? It doesn't make sense." He wasn't just making up an excuse to get the Commander to sit down. That particular aspect of this situation baffled him - not so much about Bander's motives, the man sounded like a nutcase - but more of Rabb's apparent belief in, well, ghosts. Charlie wasn't blaming Megan. The agent had been injured, drugged and traumatized. He believed that she believed what she'd said was the truth even if he knew better. Charlie was having a harder time reconciling Harm's acceptance of the tale at face value. After all, the man was a lawyer and a highly decorated military officer.

Harm took a moment and lowered himself into the indicated chair, somewhat surprised at the relief he felt. He must have been pacing longer and harder than he thought. He looked over to see Charlie was still waiting for an answer and sighed a little. "Personal experience?" he offered finally. He didn't think Charlie would openly scoff but he was fairly certain the mathematician wasn't going to believe him either.

Charlie gave Harm a long look before shaking his head a bit, "You think you've seen ghosts before?"

"Ghost. Singular," Harm held up a forefinger. "Aboard the USS Hornet. The ship had been decommissioned and was being sold for scrap. A couple of scavengers cut into the void between the hulls and found a skeleton. Mac and I were sent out to investigate. It turned out to be Lt. Brian Tate, a pilot who served with my dad during Vietnam. He went missing during the fall of Saigon. While we are on board, the ship was set on fire. We were trapped below decks when I saw Lt. Tate. He led us out and then disappeared." Harm concluded and then watched Charlie struggle to keep his expression neutral. Rabb shrugged, "Believe what you want. I know what I saw and I know we would have never found our way out of that maze on our own - not in time, anyway."

"Harm - ," Charlie started to protest when his laptop beeped. Instantly, his attention was diverted to his equations.

Harm sat up as well, "What?"

Charlie started typing, "I've been running an algorithm trying to isolate the most likely places Mac might be held. Colby was able to get me a list of Bander's personal holdings as well as what belongs to Liwanu Enterprises."

That was enough to get Harm up and moving to stand behind Charlie and look over his shoulder, "You've got a location?"

Charlie glanced back at the Commander, "More like twenty or so; as I said, these are likely. There's no guarantee that she's being held in any of these places."

Harm peered at the screen and frowned, "He'll take her out of the city. Someplace isolated where he has control."

Charlie raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure?"

Harm was still for a moment and then nodded decisively, "He wants a one-on-one conversation with her. After the fiasco at the warehouse, he knows the hunt will be more intense. He's not going to want to take any more chances, either with us finding him or with Mac escaping and finding help quickly."

Charlie looked at him for a few seconds longer and then turned back to the laptop, typing again, "Okay, taking out city locations narrows the list down to eight."

"He can't be too far away from LA either. He's got to be accessible if he's going to maintain his cover," Harm snagged a chair and pulled it up alongside of Charlie.

"Okay," Charlie drew the word out as he studied the screen. "Let's figure a hundred mile radius from the warehouse. That's less than two hours, depending on traffic." He typed in the variation, "That gives us - five locations."

"Can you show them on a map?" Charlie nodded and half a minute later, a map appeared on the large screen. There were a multitude of dots on it, five of which were bright red. Harm got up and stared at it, "What can you tell me about these locations?"

Charlie peered at his screen and tapped a key. One red dot grew larger. "Liwanu Enterprises is building a small industrial complex with four main buildings, up near Apple Valley. It's away from the main traffic flows. They're working on completing the last building."

Harm shook his head, "There's still too much activity with the construction. There'd be inspectors going through everything for the occupancy permits."

A different red dot expanded. "This is an office building in Chino that's scheduled to be razed. The area's been blighted. A developer wants to put in one of those self-contained neighborhoods - apartments, shops, restaurants."

Harm thought about it for few moments and then shook his head, "Maybe, I don't know. We can come back. What else?"

"Bander has a good-sized home, practically a compound, near Silverado. It's up in the hills, no close neighbors."

"It sounds good but I don't think this guy would take that sort of chance with his home. Does he own anything else?" Harm perked up a little.

"No, not in the area anyway. He has a place in Aspen and an estate in Virginia, outside of DC," Charlie sounded as disappointed as Harm felt. Then his eyes narrowed as he stared at his laptop, "Hang on a second." After a minute or so, Charlie looked up at Harm, "Last year, Bander deeded a small house on the Mesa Grande Indian Reservation to his administrative assistant, Margery Threetrails. Supposedly, it's under repair and unoccupied."

"That's it! That's got to be the place," Harm spun back towards Charlie, his expression fierce. "Where's this reservation?"

"South, towards San Diego," Charlie caught Harm's excitement. "We need to tell Don."

"Tell Don what?" Harm and Charlie both turned to see Don standing in the doorway. The agent walked further into the conference room, nodding at the screen, "What's this?"

"Charlie's narrowed down a location where Bander might be holding Mac," Harm answered first. "We need to get someone down there to check it out without spooking this guy. It's a small house that's supposed to be unoccupied. Maybe the local police could swing by and take a look, see if there's any activity - what?" Don was shaking his head.

"Only federal law enforcement has jurisdiction on an Indian reservation and we'd need proof of a crime before we enter their land. According to the law, Indian reservations are viewed as separate nations." Don looked apologetic. "We'd have to contact the tribal council and I'm pretty sure they're not going to see Bander as a kidnapper."

Harm stared at him, his temper beginning to slip, "So the only way to get to Mac is to prove that Bander has her and we can't because we're not allowed to look?"

"Harm, we don't even know if she's there," Charlie cut in, hoping to defuse the growing tension.

"She's there," Harm stated flatly. "It's the perfect place. It's isolated and, apparently, free from any official scrutiny. He can do whatever he wants." His gut twisted at the thought of an injured Mac at the mercy of this nutcase.

"Hey, I don't like this any more than you do," Don growled, folding his arms. "And we've got bigger problems. We can only account for the whereabouts of two of Hawks' new hires. That leaves four of them running around loose and I'm having a hard time believing they're there as backup only."

"What's NCIS doing?" Harm took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. This damn case was like quicksand. The faster the pieces came together, the more mired down he felt.

"They've got people placed aboard the Nimitz and our San Diego office is watching Hawks' outfit. I've got surveillance on his office here in LA. So far, it looks desserted. They're all in San Diego." Don still looked unhappy. This was his case and it wasn't that he didn't trust his counterparts in San Diego, but he would have felt better to have been there in person when the arrests went down. Merrick had firmly vetoed that notion and Don knew he was right. Besides, they still had to find a way to definitively tie Bander to the terrorist cell. What little they had was circumstantial, the DA would never go for arresting Bander now. Don checked his watch as he scrubbed his other hand through his hair, "It's almost 4 am. Let's see what else we can come up with in the next couple of hours and then go pay Bander and Margery Threetrails a visit."

Harm glared at him, "I'm coming with you."

Don raised an eyebrow, "I kinda figured that." He looked back at Charlie, "I know Homeland Security has run through these scenarios before but could you go through the data and see what might be the most likely areas in the LA for a biological attack? I keep thinking Bander's point of view is going to put a different spin on things."

"Okay," Charlie threw an apologetic look at Harm as he turned back to his laptop. It was frustrating. There was an 77% probability that Mac was at Grande Mesa and they couldn't do a damn thing to confirm or deny the theory.

Harm followed Don out. He'd help out where he could until it was time to see Bander and Threetrails. He was fairly certain Bander would be 'out of town on business' and that was all he really needed to confirm his suspicions. After that, one way or the other, he was going to Grande Mesa.

- - - - -

Sarah huddled in dark in her nightgown with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. The shouting and cursing that had woken her had finally died down. Either her father had passed out or he'd decided Mom had learned her lesson for the night. Eventually, there'd be crying and apologizing and then, in the next day or so, it would start again. She hated Friday nights. They were the worst. She knew and her mother knew what was coming and no matter how they tried, it was as inevitable as the sunrise. She sat a while longer. Once, she'd made the mistake of leaving the closet early and had the misfortune of attracting her father's drunken attention as he stumbled down the hallway. That had unleashed a new round of fury at her mother's shortcomings at parenting and at her own willfulness and disobedience for being out of bed after lights out. Suddenly the door banged open and she couldn't help the squeal of terror that erupted...

Mac walked slowly up to the house, dreading the uncertainty of what the evening and her father's arrival home would bring. Today was her birthday but, by now, she'd learned not to expect too much. Mom had let her go to dinner and a sleepover yesterday at Janey's house. It was probably the best birthday present she would get. Janey's mom had baked a cake for dessert, smilingly calling it a warm-up for the real thing. Little did she know, it would probably be the only cake Mac received. Her own mother had been growing more and more detached over the years, withdrawing from family life. Mac had stepped in to pick up the slack in an effort to keep the chaos to a predictable scale. At the now advanced age of fifteen, she was pretty much self-sufficient.

She unlocked the front door and stepped into an eerily silent house. The hair on the back of her neck went up as her eyes swept the interior. Something was definitely wrong. Trembling slightly, she moved from room to room, half-terrified of what she might find. Always, in the back of her mind, was the thought that some day her father would lose complete control and kill her mother. It was when Mac reached her parents' room and saw the open closet and pulled out drawers that it dawned on her what had happened. Her mother had left them, left her. In a daze, Mac walked back to the kitchen and glanced out the window. She realized then why Ruggles hadn't barked at all since she'd gotten home. The backyard gate was open and he was gone, too. Dropping into a chair, Mac stared out into space. Dear god, not even the dog would stay for her. Ninety-eight minutes later, she leapt out her seat and pressed herself against the counter. Her father was home...

Eddy was dead. Even though she was in more pain than she'd ever been in in her life, that fact hurt most of all. This was her fault. She never should have let him drive. Eddy had been her best friend all through high school. They were kindred spirits. They understood each other. His home life wasn't much better than hers and he too, had found solace in a bottle. How was she supposed to go on without him? Darkness loomed up near her and she stared at it for a long moment. Why not? What was the point in staying? There wasn't anything, anyone left to come back for. Chris, her so-called husband of six weeks, was in prison for car theft. She barely remembered the ceremony, having been totally blitzed. God knew her old man would probably be relieved to be rid of her. The darkness was looking better all the time. The pain eased as Mac edged a little closer.

She was nearly at the threshold when a figure appeared in front of her. It was a blonde-haired woman who didn't look much older than she was. Mac paused in surprise, "Who are you?"

The woman smiled warmly, "A friend. Don't you remember me?"

Mac shook her head, sidling sideways a bit. The darkness was beckoning. She needed to go in. "Never saw you before in my life. Now if you'll excuse me..."

The woman moved in front of her again, "Sarah, you mustn't. It's not your time. There's so much more for you to do."

"Yeah right," Mac snorted. "There must be hundreds of people out there whose lives I haven't ruined yet. Believe me, this looks like a better deal." She took a decisive step to the left. The woman shifted with her, blocking her path yet again. Mac's annoyance flared, "What is your problem? This is none of your business!"

The blonde was unperturbed, "Of course it is. You saved my life. I'm returning the favor. It is not your time."

Mac gritted her teeth, "What are you on? I told you I've never seen you before. Get out of my way."

"No." The woman stood firm, arms folded, "Sarah, you're not eighteen anymore. You must fight this. The dark is deceitful. It wants you and it will do whatever it has to to achieve its goals."

"Are you insane?" Mac glared at the blonde, "What are you talking about? I should know how old I am!"

"The darkness is lying," the woman repeated. "This was probably the lowest point in your life. You're vulnerable and it's trying to use that. Don't let it."

"Don't let who do what?" Mac looked from the woman to the darkness and back again. Damn, she was beginning to look somewhat familiar. A teacher, maybe, or some Pollyanna social worker? "Who are you?"

"I'm Avis Payne Simpson although, when we met, I hadn't married yet," the blonde gave her a brilliant smile. "You are Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie of the United States Marine Corps. You're a successful attorney and you're engaged to Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr., also an attorney, a very handsome and devoted man."

Mac stared at her for a long moment and then shook her head, "Now I know you're on drugs. That's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard. Me? In the Marines like my old man? Not a chance." She took a step back and then gasped as the pain made a reappearance. Behind Avis, the darkness grew larger.

"You are in the Marine Corps like your Uncle Matt," Avis countered. "You turned your life around with his help. Don't throw it away."

"Uncle - Matt?" Mac managed to get out, gritting her teeth. She'd nearly forgotten him. He was the only relative she had left who seemed to care if she lived or died. The pain was back to its former level and she was nearly doubled over, "Why - are you - doing - this to me?" It would stop if she could reach the darkness, somehow she was nearly positive of that.

"I'm not. I told you, the darkness will do anything to claim you. If it can't seduce you, it will try force," Avis reached out and placed a light hand on Mac's shoulder. There was warmth in her touch and the pain receded a little. "You must not give in."

"I don't - understand," Mac groaned. "Why me?" Somewhere under pain, a little flicker of indignation grew. Force her? Like hell.

"Because you've been a thorn in its side. You're a potent force for good, you and Commander Rabb, and it wants that to stop. Your death will destroy the Commander and the darkness eliminates two of you for the price of one."

"'Potent force for - good'? I thought - you said I was - a lawyer," Mac couldn't help the retort even as another spasm folded her over again.

"I have missed you," Avis chuckled softly. She knelt down next to Mac, "I know you can fight this. You''ve always been remarkably stubborn."

"Please - make this stop," Eyes squeezed shut, Mac was on her knees, curled in on herself. "Tell me - what to do."

"Live, that's all I ask." Avis put her hand back on Mac's shoulder, "I'm afraid it's going to hurt a while longer, but it will end, I promise."

Nodding, Mac clamped her jaw shut and shuddered through another wave. "I'm engaged?"

"Yes, although you two apparently like taking your time. You've been best friends for ten years." Avis shook her head at the wonder of it.

Mac cracked open an eye, "Are you kidding? Did I - think he was gay - or something?" Her breath hitched, "How - much longer?" The pain seemed to be less intense but it still hurt like hell.

Avis glanced up and saw that the darkness was finally retreating. She smiled in relief, this had been closer than she liked, "Not long." The darkness continued to recede and then winked out. Mac sagged to the ground, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. Her eyes were still closed and she looked exhausted. Avis leaned in a little closer, "It's all right. You can rest now. I'll keep watch." Barely managing a nod, Mac let sleep claim her.

- - - - -

Unknown location

0440 Local

Kate took another look around before returning her gaze to Mac, who finally seemed to be sleeping. For the longest time, the Marine Colonel had been curled tightly, seemingly in pain. Nothing Kate did could rouse her and she couldn't find Avis either. Finally giving up, Kate had resigned herself to standing guard. So far, the only threat had been a couple of coyotes that she'd easily frightened off. A possum had ambled through and while it wasn't exactly a danger, Kate didn't want it hanging around either. It had been an interesting problem. Every time she scared it, it would collapse. After a prolonged period of trial and error, she managed a gentle nudge that moved the little creature without alarming it.

She heard the growl before she located the source. Kate moved closer to Mac as a cougar stalked cautiously into the small clearing. "Beat it!" she snapped, stepping towards it. Earlier, Kate had discovered with the coyotes that animals could hear her. The cougar flattened its ears and snarled back, obviously unimpressed by disembodied voices. Concentrating, Kate hefted a rock and hurled it at the cat, hitting it in the side. The cougar jumped sideways and then came back, tail lashing angrily. "Get out of here!" Kate shouted, trying another rock. She was beginning to get nervous. So far, she only seemed to be annoying the big cat. No doubt it was attracted by the blood scent. Mac had opened up a couple of gashes on her hands and knees from the repeated falls. The bleeding had stopped awhile ago but the bloodstains were still there.

Kate began gathering herself. Hopefully a direct shot would make the cougar leave because after that, there wasn't much more she could do. Suddenly Avis appeared alongside her and, as she'd done once before, began to manifest into a large glowing shape. The cougar blinked, its ears beginning to shift back and forth as it stopped moving. Avis advanced on it, growing larger and brighter and the big cat retreated a step. Finally, it turned and disappeared into the darkness. Avis held the shape for a few more moments and then let it go, returning to where Kate was waiting beside Mac.

"Where have you been?" Kate demanded, still feeling rattled. She could manage to make herself seen for brief periods of time but had no idea how to go about doing what Avis had done.

"With Sarah," Avis answered calmly.

Kate stared at the younger woman. "What are you, exactly?" she finally asked. Kate still wasn't exactly clear on what their history was together. It was obvious from their interactions that Mac and Avis had been good friends. What Kate never understood was her impression that Avis was an old spirit.

It had been confusing enough when she'd found herself on that rooftop, staring at her body along with Tony and Gibbs. She'd been angry at first for dying so unexpectedly but that had quickly turned to concern as her friends grieved. She'd done what she could to help them out and then found herself drawn to Mac. Avis had shown up not much later and teaming up had seemed like a good idea. The blonde had a wealth of knowledge as a spirit and had helped Kate in learning the ropes. She'd stayed in the background at first, providing the visions Kate had shown Mac but then she'd taken a more active part when Mac had, predictably, been stubborn about listening.

Avis eyed Kate for a moment, her head tilted slightly as if she was listening. Finally, she nodded slowly, "I suppose you could call me a guardian spirit."

Kate's eyes widened, "You mean you're... "

Avis shook her head, "Not quite. I lived and died, just like you. There are those of us who have been allowed to stay to keep an eye on those whose good works have attracted the wrong sort of attention."

"Wrong sort?" Kate was feeling decidedly flummoxed.

"We try to counter unfair influence. There are - agencies - that would use any means to remove these people from life before their appointed time." Avis grinned, "I believe you once asked Sarah if she was descended from cats."

"So Mac...?" Avis nodded and Kate could only shake her head, "Harm, too?"

"Yes," Avis nodded again.

"Am I still here because of Mac?" Kate had to ask.

"For now. As you've no doubt realized, she can be a handful. I'm grateful for the assistance." Avis smiled again, "And we could always use more help. There will be others out there who need guarding."

"Will be?"

Avis glanced away again, "If all goes as foreseen." She turned back to Kate, looking positively radiant, "Sarah and Harm's daughter will need a great deal of looking after."


	30. Chapter 30

Another competition out of the way - finished 34th out of 102 in one event, not as good as I would have liked but not awful. In the veterans' 50-59 category, I came in 11th. Ran into an old friend/nemesis in the round of 16 and lost 10-9. Last time we'd met, I beat her so I guess it was her turn. Nice gal and good fencer, she finished 2nd in the event. Tried working on this but it was tough trying to get back into the story while I was concentrating on the other stuff. Next competition isn't until mid-April and hopefully, this will be done by then.

Chapter 30

Tuesday,

Unknown Location

0620 Local

Mac roused slowly, blinking a couple of times as she tried to bring things into focus. With a muted groan, she rolled onto to her back and stared up at the sky. It was beginning to lighten, dawn wasn't far off. That annoying, disjointed feeling was still with her, along with innumerable aches and pains. What the hell had she been doing? Mac brought a hand up to rub her forehead and then winced as she flexed her fingers. Turning her hand to look at it, Mac frowned at the dried blood from the scrapes and cuts across the palm. Inspection of her other hand revealed the same injuries and her frown grew deeper. How had this happened? With an effort, she propped herself up on her elbows. The landscape tilted and swam alarmingly. Mac cursed that old man as she squeezed her eyes shut and took a steadying breath. What the hell had she been given and how much longer was it going to last?

After a minute or so, she cracked an eye open. This time the world stayed level, so she opened the other eye and looked at her surroundings. 'Middle of nowhere' seemed an apt description. The question was, what to do now? 'Well duh, seeing if standing was possible might be a start,' Mac thought wryly. She turned to the side and pushed herself to a sitting position, grimacing at the pressure on her sore hands. The change in height required another pause until her equilibrium reasserted itself. Mac swore silently. At this rate, she would on her feet by sundown.

She was fairly certain she didn't have that kind of time. Her thought processes were still jumbled and her time sense still AWOL but she was coherent enough to know that the men who'd been holding her were probably searching. Wherever the hell 'here' was, she needed to be someplace else. Preferably, that place would also be where Harm could find her. He was coming. It was the one thing she knew with bone-deep conviction. Mac gritted her teeth, pulled her feet underneath and stood up. She managed to maintain a semblance of balance for a few seconds before staggering sideways. It was worse than any pitching deck she'd ever had the misfortune to stand upon.

Eventually, she managed to stand still; her feet spread out in a stance that she suspected a dog would find embarrassing. The important thing was that she was up. After a few seconds, Mac took a chance with her fragile balance and took another look at the surrounding scenery. It had that scrubby, barren, not-quite-desert look to it that she found comfortingly familiar. This was the type of environment she'd grown up in. Carefully, she swiveled her head around again, "Kate? Avis? Anybody home?" Mac kept her voice down to nearly a whisper.

"Here," Kate's voice was quiet as well.

Mac's eyes widened slightly at the sound of Kate's voice and then she frowned. There was something important about Kate but she couldn't pull the thought out from where it was hiding. "Any idea where I am?"

"California."

"Gee, thanks," Mac muttered in exasperation. "I don't suppose you could be more specific?"

"You're about a quarter mile from that house but other than that, I have no idea. How's your head?" Kate's voice was patience itself.

"Oh damn," Mac breathed quietly, fighting the urge to sink down into a crouch. As alarming as it was to discover she was almost within shouting distance of her captors, she didn't want to have to go through a second struggle to stand up. "We need to get out of here. Now." She could only hope it wouldn't prove easier said than done. At the moment, she was in a clearing near a small arroyo. It sloped gently downhill and Mac decided to follow it. It was the path of least resistance for now and if it led to water, it would eventually lead to civilization.

Unknown location

0630 Local

Bander looked up as James and Lonnie walked into the small living room. Outside, it had lightened to the point where flashlights were no longer necessary. It was time to bring MacKenzie back. "Go find her. I have to leave for about an hour and then I'll be back. Keep in touch and remember, do not harm her in any way. Radio me when you have her." He watched as they nodded before leaving and then picked up his car keys and left too, locking the door behind him. Bander estimated that they would find her within an hour or so. How hard could it be to locate one hallucinating woman? Guardian spirits or not, there would still be a trail to follow. James and Lonnie were good outdoorsmen. He had faith in their ability to track down their quarry. Meanwhile, he needed to contact Husam and put their plans into action. He was feeling extraordinarily confident this morning. Even with that interrupted session with MacKenzie, he'd gleaned enough to know that he had the spirits' blessing. It was clear they were yearning for revenge. That meant the setbacks he'd encountered had had more to do with the outsiders he'd been forced to deal with, as well as common human failings. They weren't signs to halt or alter his plans.

He hummed quietly to himself as he followed the tracks out to the main road. Theoretically, he really didn't need MacKenzie anymore. He'd gotten the confirmation he was seeking but, at the same time, he found himself craving more. The question was how to keep her - and not get caught. This would have been a hell of a lot easier if she'd been some little nobody rather than a high-profile military officer and attorney. Still, there had to be a way. He was a rich and powerful man. There was very little he couldn't make happen with the right incentives to the right people. Bander tapped the steering wheel as he drove north, considering and discarding numerous ideas.

Topping a small rise, he glanced again at his cellphone's input signal and finally saw enough bars to dial out. He pulled over to the side of the road and stopped the SUV. Pulling out the prepaid cellphone he'd bought last week, Bander checked its signal and then dialed a number. When he heard 'hello', he replied, "Sorry, wrong number," and hung up. Bander sat for a few minutes, letting the elation run through him. At long last, after years of preparation, it had begun. Tomorrow, he would tweak a few more state officials to keep that pot fomenting. It had been easier than he imagined to play partisan politics against both sides until they were barely speaking to each other, much less agreeing to any key legislation. In the crisis he was about to unleash, the government's inability to act cohesively would be glaringly apparent.

With satisfied grin, Bander started the truck up again. Now if Lonnie or James would call, this day would be perfect. He still hadn't settled on a plan for keeping MacKenzie but there were a couple of promising ideas. It would take at least a week to pull things together, which meant he would need an interim strategy. After a few seconds, Bander snorted quietly. Sometimes, simplest was best. He would keep her drugged until everything was ready.

Unknown location

0730 Local

Mac stopped and leaned against a boulder. The arroyo had gradually flattened out as it reached the bottom of the slope. From what she could see, she was still up in the hills and there was still no sign of civilization. Her head seemed a bit clearer but it was also beginning to pound. Her stomach hurt as well but she wasn't sure if it was from whatever she'd been given or the fact that it had been 23 hours and 52 minutes since she'd last eaten a meal. Mac brightened a little at that thought. Her internal clock was finally back online. Now if only she was out of this mess. Wearily, Mac pushed herself up and started moving again, angling towards the west whenever the lay of the land allowed it. At some point, there had to be a road or something that could give her a clue about her location.

"Sarah! Get into the rocks. They're coming," Avis' voice sounded sharply in Mac's ear.

Grimacing, Mac turned and struggled uphill towards a series of rocks. It didn't take long before she was scrambling on all fours. Panting, she threw herself down into a shallow ravine just behind a low outcropping. Shifting over onto her back, Mac tried to blink the sweat out of her eyes as she clenched her jaw against any untoward sound. Her hands hurt like hell and that ever-present headache was throbbing harder, making her dizzy. If those bastards found her now, there wouldn't be much she could do. Down below where she'd been, a stiff breeze blew and swirled, disturbing the sand and dust.

Lonnie stopped and wiped at the sweat before looking over at James, "Are you sure this is the right way? Man, I haven't seen anything lately."

James shook his head, looking frustrated. "There were signs at the top of that gully. She's still got that crap in her system. I thought she'd just take the easiest path down. Hell, if nothing else, I figured this is where she'd land after rolling downhill."

"You were guessing?! Aw, man, come on! We just wasted close to an hour looking for damn signs that weren't there? The old man is going to kill us," Lonnie turned around in disgust.

"Well, where the hell do you want to look?" James retorted angrily. "That spot with the cougar tracks? Think it carried her off? Or maybe it was the possum. Yeah, that's it. We'll tell the old man, 'Sorry, couldn't find the bitch. She hopped a ride with a possum. They're halfway to the east coast by now.'"

"Shut up! That's not funny, dammit," Lonnie's voice dropped, "Look at JohnnyD, man. He screwed up and the old man shot him dead. We gotta find her."

"Yeah," James sobered, "Yeah, you're right." He looked up the slopes of the hills on either side of them. Rocks and scrub but nothing substantial enough to hide an entire person. A gust of wind wrapped itself around him and he shivered despite the heat. "Come on," he turned abruptly and started back the way they came. "We'll start at that clearing and quarter the area until we find her tracks. They've gotta be there somewhere. She didn't fly outta here."

Lonnie glanced over his shoulder one more time as he followed James. "Don't be too sure," he mumbled. This job had already turned into more than he bargained for.

Tuesday,

Liwanu Enterprises

Los Angeles, CA

0810 Local

Margery looked at the two men standing before her and smiled pleasantly, "And how may I help you gentlemen?"

"We'd like to speak with Mr. Bander," Pulling out his credentials, Don didn't look at Rabb as he spoke. Although the Commander had been nothing but professional going over their strategy on the way here, the tension he was radiating was palpable.

Harm noted silently that the woman's demeanor slipped for a split second before her expression turned apologetic. Had he not been watching for just that reaction, he probably would have missed it. The question was, was it because she knew what Bander was doing or was it normal concern about having the FBI pay a call on the guy who signed her paycheck?

Margery tipped her head slightly to the side while continuing to smile, "I'm sorry. Mr. Bander has been traveling and he's not due to return until tomorrow." Her stomach had clenched at the sight of the FBI ID. Did they know?

"It's important that we speak to Mr. Bander. Is there any way to reach him?" Don frowned. He'd been halfway expecting that response but he wasn't sure at the moment if Threetrails was lying or had been lied to.

"Let me see if I can reach him," Margery reached for the phone and quickly dialed a number. She knew how important it was that it appear that the Bear and Liwanu had nothing to hide. She continued to smile at Agent Eppes and Commander Rabb. The FBI agent seemed reasonable enough but the Naval Commander was giving her the creeps. "Mr. Bander?" Margery jumped in as soon as she heard 'hello', "I'm glad I caught you. The FBI and JAG are here. They would like to speak with you." She paused for a few seconds, listening, then hit the speaker button and replaced the handset, "You're on speaker, Mr. Bander."

"Hello? Carson Bander here. To whom am I speaking?" Bander's rich baritone filled the office.

"Mr. Bander? I'm Special Agent Don Eppes and I'm here with Commander Harmon Rabb." Don glanced at Harm, "We'd like to talk to you about John Delance. I understand he was an employee of yours."

"Agent Eppes, I have over a thousand employees," Bander chuckled, "You'll have to give me a bit more to go on. Margery?"

"One moment, sir," Margery was already at her computer, typing quickly. She kept her eyes glued to the screen so she didn't have to look at either man as she went along with Bander's ploy. Her heart was racing. They knew about JohnnyD! Did they have him in custody? Had he talked? She knew he was a Dog Soldier and that he handled 'special' projects for the Bear but she'd carefully avoided knowing specifics. Margery had contemplated this type of scenario when she'd first realized what Bander was attempting but the reality was much more nerve-wracking. That JAG officer seemed to think he could see right through to her soul if he stared hard enough. She suppressed a shiver, maybe he could. After what she thought was a suitable interval, Margery looked up, "They're talking about JohnnyD, sir. We have him as a maintenance trouble-shooter."

"Ahh, JohnnyD, good man." There was a brief pause, "Wait a minute, you said he was an employee of mine? What's going on? Did something happen?"

Don exchanged a quick look with Harm, "I'm afraid he's dead, Mr. Bander. We found his body in the remains of an abandoned factory of yours. The one in Inglewood that was torched yesterday."

"Johnny's dead?" Bander sounded incredulous. "I don't - Margery? Was Johnny scheduled to inspect the Inglewood facility yesterday?"

Margery dutifully started typing again and after a few seconds, looked up, "No sir, he was supposed to be over in Chino." She didn't have to fake the shaky note in her voice. JohnnyD was dead? What had happened?

"Was it murder? Do you have any suspects?" Bander's voice grew hard. "What do you need me to do?"

"Mr. Bander," Don's voice grew equally hard, "We believe John DeLance was involved in a kidnapping/murder as well as the assault and attempted murder of a Federal agent. Do you know anything about that?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Bander snapped. "Why in the world would I kidnap someone, much less try to kill a Federal agent?"

"Mr. Bander, when did you last speak to Vince Hawks?" Harm broke in suddenly.

"Who? Hawks? I have no idea who you're talking about," Bander sounded angry. "Agent Eppes, I resent your implication that I might be involved in something illegal. Your superior will be hearing from my attorney!" There was an audible click and then a dial tone.

Margery gave Don and Harm an apologetic look, "I'm sorry. Mr. Bander's normally not so abrupt. This has been a shock."

"Did you know Mr. DeLance?" Don asked.

"Not that well," Margery shrugged a bit, "He seemed like a nice man. We chatted whenever he happened to be here." Her voice caught, "I can't believe he's dead."

Don nodded sympathetically, "I'm sorry. Do you know if he had any family? We haven't been able to locate anyone."

"I'm afraid I don't," Margery shook her head, "You'll have to check with Human Resources. I can't access that information from here. They're on the fourth floor." She started to sit down as if that had ended the conversation and then stopped when Harm cleared his throat, "Was there something else?"

"Just curious. How long have you known Mr. Bander?" Harm smiled disarmingly at her. "He sounds a lot like my CO. Has he ever served in the military?"

Margery couldn't help smiling back. It was surprising how attractive the Commander was when he smiled, "Oh no, Mr. Bander's whole life has been about building up Liwanu Enterprises. I first met him when he came to career day at my high school. He's a very impressive speaker. After I got my Masters in business, Mr. Bander offered me a job. I've been here ever since."

Harm glanced appreciatively around the office before fastening his gaze upon her once more, "Well, you must be quite good at what you do. It sounds like Mr. Bander relies on you a great deal."

"I do my best. He's a great boss. I've learned a lot from him," Margery figured it couldn't hurt to extoll Mr. Bander's virtues. It was easy enough to appear sincere, she meant every word.

"So he's not a slave driver?" Harm grinned so she would know he wasn't serious. "I imagine this place could keep you hopping 24/7."

"It does and he's not. I put in my time voluntarily," Margery relaxed a little more, "It's worth the long hours. Some day I'll have my own business and I only hope I can run it half as well as Mr. Bander runs Liwanu."

"You will," Harm shot a look at Don, "Well, I'm sure you've got a lot to do. We won't keep you any longer." He gave her one more dazzling smile before following Eppes out of the office.

As they walked towards the elevator, Don glanced over Harm, "What was that all about?"

Harm shrugged, "Checking the Svengali angle. She's pretty young to be sitting at the right hand of God, so to speak. I get the feeling she knows a hell of lot more than she's letting on. What do you know about her?"

"Not much," Don stepped onto the elevator, "I'll have Colby check her out." He didn't say anything else until they were in the SUV. Once they'd pulled onto the street, Don looked over at Harm, "Did you notice how he jumped right to himself about the kidnapping and the attempt on Megan?"

"Yeah," Harm nodded, "It would have made more sense to claim ignorance about DeLance. He's lying about Hawks, too. Remember what the woman at the Native American Center said? Bander and Hawks are from the same tribe. There's no way they haven't met at some point." He glanced out the window at the passing buildings, "He's got Mac. I can feel it."

Don shot a sideways glance at Rabb. "There's still not enough evidence to get us onto that reservation. We think he's lying. We can't prove it."

"I know," Harm's voice was a study in frustration. Both men lapsed into silence. There wasn't much more to say. Harm frowned slightly as he continued to stare out the window. He was going to Grande Mesa as soon as he could manage to get himself out from under Don's watchful eye.

- - - - -

Grande Mesa Reservation

0830 Local

Bander took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. The unexpected call had rattled him and he didn't like the feeling. Obviously they had connected JohnnyD and him but how much did they really know? And Reeves was alive? How the hell had she managed to get out of an unfamiliar building without being able to see? Could she see? Had MacKenzie lied to him? Dammit, he was a fool. So much for honor and integrity, how dare she?

He scrubbed a hand through his hair before replacing it on the steering wheel. This day was rapidly turning sour. They hadn't found the Marine colonel yet and he was beginning to worry. Right now, he was slowly cruising through the little back roads that crisscrossed the reservation, hoping for a glimpse. It was hard to believe that she'd managed to continually evade James and Lonnie in her condition. That could mean she'd gotten into trouble last night and was lying dead in some secluded ravine or gully. While it wasn't the outcome he'd been hoping for, that scenario was preferable to her escaping altogether.

Bander came to a crossroads and stopped. Putting the truck in park, he climbed up on the running board with a pair of binoculars and scanned the area. Nothing. Stepping off the truck, he looked up at the sky and slowly turned in a circle. To the south, a lone buzzard was high up and drifting lazily on the breeze. Apparently, he wasn't seeing anything of interest either. Muttering to himself, Bander got back in the truck and sat for a minute.

So the FBI had focused their attention on him and Liwanu. It had happened much earlier than he'd anticipated thanks to JohnnyD, but wasn't entirely unexpected. Margery had done the right thing in contacting him quickly. That showed transparency on her part. If the Feds played true to form, they'd see her as a potential ally. No doubt they would also underestimate her intelligence and loyalty. He'd have to let her know it was okay to play along. He could use it to his advantage to delay their investigation. The best part would be that Margery would be able to disseminate misleading information without any repercussions.

With a little luck, by the time they figured it out, the major components of his plan would have been launched. Bander started the truck up again and shifted into Drive. It was up to Husam and his team now to execute the plan without delay. Bander glanced at the console clock and then shook his head. Dammit, he was out of time. He needed to get back to the city. They should have been able to find her by now. Bander turned the SUV around and started back to the house. He would check in with Lonnie and James and then return to LA. It would be up to them to bring MacKenzie in. Dead or alive, at this point Bander didn't really care. He couldn't afford to have her surface and he would be particularly clear with his men about the price of failure.

- - - - -

FBI Headquarters

Los Angeles, CA

0925 Local

"Hey Don," Colby looked up from his computer, "I've got the file on Margery Threetrails." He leaned a little to the side as Don and Harm walked over, "She's full-blooded Navajo, thirty-three years old and single. She has a younger brother, Daniel, who works as a blackjack dealer in Reno. Their parents are dead. She was valedictorian at her high school and received a full ride to UCLA where she earned a Masters degree in Business and minored in Political Science. Want to guess who picked up the tab for her education?"

"Bander?" Don raised an eyebrow.

Colby nodded, "He has a foundation that focuses on Native Americans. Her scholarship was granted on his personal recommendation. Apparently, he's been watching her since high school. Borderline creepy, if you ask me."

"And smart," Harm replied, gesturing towards the screen, "She graduated magna cum laude. Look at her career path at Liwanu. He started her in a junior management position, moved her throughout the company with each promotion and now she's his executive assistant. He's got himself a brilliant and loyal protege who knows his business inside and out." He looked over at Don, "No way in the world would she ever agree to help us with anything that would jeopardize Bander or Liwanu Enterprises."

Don folded his arms as he leaned against the desk, "So you think she's in on whatever he's doing?"

Harm paused for a moment and then shook his head, "I doubt it. I wouldn't include her if I were him. He doesn't have any other family. She's his heir apparent. He won't risk her going down with him."

"But - ," Don gave Harm a look.

"But," Harm repeated, arching an eyebrow, "that doesn't mean she hasn't figured it out on her own."

"So what do you want to do about her?" Colby asked. "Should we bring her in and see if we can rattle her cage a bit?"

"Don!"

Don, Harm and Colby turned to see David and Charlie hurry out of the conference room. Don pushed himself upright, his manner suddenly intent, "What?"

"We found them! I mean I'm fairly certain it's them. There's an eighty-four percent probability that this is - ," Charlie's words were tumbling over themselves in his excitement.

"The four other hires at Hawks' company," David jumped in. "There's a maintenance project near the intersection of Foster and Berkeley. Under that intersection, happens to be one of the main junctions for the waterlines for downtown LA. If they can introduce some sort of biological there - "

"They can infect over half a million people," Charlie took over again. "And if it's contagious... "

"It could wipe out the whole city. Damn!" Don finished, his gut starting to churn. "Any idea how long they've been there?"

"That's just it," Charlie shook his head, "They're not there yet. The work is scheduled to begin at 10:00."

"Okay," Don turned to Colby, "Call Homeland Security and the LAPD. Let them know what's going down." He looked at David, "Start assembling a team. I'll call Merrick." He turned to Charlie, "If they're planning to put it in the water, what would happen if it's released into the air instead?"

Charlie shifted uncomfortably, "Well, obviously, they don't get the numbers they were hoping for but it would still be deadly. It really depends on what exactly they've concocted. Don, you realize they might be planning to do that anyway? As a kind of failsafe? You need to be careful."

Don grinned, "Always, little brother." He turned to Harm, "Look man, I know you'd rather come along but with your shoulder... "

Harm raised a hand, "It's okay, I understand. I'll keep Charlie company, you stop these guys." He watched Don nod and then hurry away with Colby in tow. It was all he could do to curb his impatience. Once the team had left, he would be on his way to Grande Mesa. So intent on watching them leave, Harm nearly jumped out of his skin when a throat cleared right behind him.

He spun around to see Charlie watching him closely. The young professor gave him a half-smile, "Mind if I tag along?"


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

FBI Headquarters

Los Angeles, CA

0943 Local

Harm felt his jaw drop and then hurriedly shut it, "What are you talking about?"

Charlie continued to smile, "You're going to Grande Mesa to find Mac. I'd like to help."

"Charlie," Harm glanced around the bullpen and lowered his voice, "Look, you heard Don. The reservation is considered a separate nation and these guys are dangerous. I don't mind risking myself but I won't risk you."

"It's my choice," Charlie replied calmly, "Besides, how far do you think you'd get if Don found out what you were planning?"

Harm drew himself up and glared down at the smaller man, "That's blackmail."

"I prefer to think of it as leverage," Charlie was unfazed by Rabb's looming presence. "Come on, Harm, you need me and I'm willing. We have to find Mac before Bander decides to cut his losses."

Harm scrubbed a hand over his jaw as he continued to glare at Charlie. Abruptly, he nodded, "Okay, let's go." He turned on his heel and marched towards the elevator.

Charlie stared after him for a second, somewhat shocked that he'd actually won the argument, and then hurried to catch up. He made it into the elevator just before the doors closed. "I googled the Grande Mesa reservation. It's one of the smaller ones, only 1820 acres and a population of 79. It's just east of the Cleveland National Forest down near San Diego."

"Even more isolated," Harm muttered, gazing down at the floor. If Mac had somehow managed to get away from her captors, she wouldn't be finding help any time soon.

"It's backcountry, we're going to need hiking equipment," Charlie added, "I've got my own gear, but you probably don't have anything here, do you?" When Harm shook his head, Charlie nodded, "Okay, there's a shop I go to where we can get you set up. Roger's a good guy and he knows his stuff. We can stop there first and then swing by my place. I'll need to let Amita know where we're going, too."

"Charlie, we're about to break the law. I don't think telling everybody in sight what we're doing is a great idea," Harm looked at the professor in exasperation.

Charlie shook his head, "It's Amita. She won't say anything if I ask her not to. I've hiked that sort of terrain before and, believe me, you don't run around in that type of area without making sure someone knows how to find you. It's too easy to run into trouble."

Harm opened his mouth and then shut it again. Obviously, Charlie had been thinking about this and had the advantage of hiking experience in Southern Californian terrain. "Okay, but I'll need to run by the hotel. Where's this Roger guy?"

"On the way," Charlie replied with a satisfied grin. It felt good to be able to help in a more substantial way. Judging from his research, the best undetected way onto Grande Mesa would be from the National Forest. He figured between getting Harm outfitted and the drive down, they would be on the trail in about three hours time.

- - - - -

Unknown Location

1215 Local

Mac carefully made her way into the thicket, watching closely for snakes. This was prime hunting ground for them and ordinarily she'd have given it a wide berth but she needed to rest and she needed to stay out of sight. Fortunately, vipers weren't normally aggressive although they tended to be cranky when disturbed by large, clumsy humans. Reaching one of the larger trees in the center, Mac inspected the surrounding area and then lowered herself to the ground with a sigh. Pulling her knees up, she folded her arms on top and rested her aching head. She was thirsty but no longer hungry and that wasn't a good sign. The last liquid she could remember drinking was the drug-laced tea thirteen and a quarter hours ago. She'd lost a little over seven hours in the haze that followed. God only knew what she'd been doing. Apparently, Kate and Avis had engineered her escape and they'd reluctantly mentioned some sort of delusional panic attack but Kate hadn't been kidding when she said she had no sense of time any more. Neither did Avis and all they could really tell her was that it had been dark when she went berserk.

Judging from the cuts, bumps and bruises, running and crashing into objects had been part of the panic. Mac couldn't remember anything beyond a feeling of terror and profound sadness. Her body, however, was feeling the consequences and now dehydration was setting in. She needed water. She had yet to cross anything other than dry stream beds. If she wasn't being hunted, Mac knew she could have managed something to drink by now. The years of desert camping with Uncle Matt had taught her how to find water when there didn't seem to be any around but it usually required time and digging. There was no way to recover the fluid she'd expended during those seven hours but she was trying her best to conserve now. It was a nerve-wracking balancing act between eluding her captors and not killing herself in the process. Death by dehydration wasn't pretty.

"Mac, don't move," Kate's voice was quiet and calm. "You've got a visitor."

Mac cracked open her eyes, trying to see without moving her head. She couldn't hear anything. "Snake?" she whispered.

"Oh yeah, big dude," Kate watched as the rattlesnake paused to contemplate the human in his territory. Mac might have been carved in stone. After a couple of minutes, he moved on. Kate watched him disappear into the brush, "Okay, it's gone."

Mac exhaled slowly. She'd forgotten that snakes were more active at this time of year as they got settled into their summer digs. She'd been more worried about stumbling across a dormant snake rather than having one stumble across her. Mac closed her eyes. Ten minutes more and then she'd get moving again. That near-miss early this morning had been the last time she'd been that close to the men hunting her but that didn't mean it couldn't happen again. She knew she wasn't at her sharpest and her ability to concentrate was laughable right now. Fortunately, it didn't take much to hang on to the thought that it was 'run or die'. Thank God, Avis and Kate had been able to destroy key portions of the trail she was leaving as well as serving as an early warning system. Mac had no illusions about where she'd be right now if it hadn't been for those two.

As for where she was, that was another good question. The terrain had been growing more rugged and although she knew it wasn't true, it still felt like she was forever struggling uphill. Combine that with what seemed like a permanent headache and the lack of food or water and, in a word, her progress sucked. Not wanting to cross open areas unless absolutely necessary had made her route more circuitous than she would have liked, too. For any distance gained westward, she was probably doubling it in actual ground covered. One time she'd found herself in a box canyon and had to double back before finding an exit of sorts in the south wall. The stress and tension had spiked her headache into the realm of nausea, forcing her to find a hiding place until the worst had passed. It cost her valuable time on the survival clock, making it that much more important that she find water soon.

Her ten minute rest period up, Mac lifted her head and looked around. The breeze had picked up a little and she could hear the chirping of nearby birds and the occasional buzz of insects. That was both good and bad. The good part was that had her captors been close, there would have been silence. The bad part was that birds and insects usually meant water somewhere and she didn't have time to look for it. It was frustrating as hell. Stifling a groan, Mac slowly unfolded, using the tree she'd been leaning against as support while she climbed to her feet. It took a few seconds for her balance to readjust, an occurrence that Mac was finding more annoying as the day wore on. Whether it was the concussion, lack of food or the dehydration was anybody's guess.

Carefully, she made her way to the edge of the thicket and looked around. It seemed clear enough. "Kate? Avis? Can you see anyone?" she whispered. Their range was limited somewhat. Avis had tried to explain it but it had been beyond Mac's current mental capabilities to grasp. They could still see further than she could and that was all she was concerned about.

"It looks clear."

Avis' voice came from just in front of Mac and she thought she could detect a faint shimmering in the air. She hoped it was Avis. The alternative was that her eyesight was beginning to go. "Thanks," she replied quietly as she left the thicket, angling westward once again.

- - - - -

Cleveland National Forest

1205 Local

Charlie pointed to a graveled parking area, "This is it. The rest of the way is going to have to be on foot." He breathed a silent sigh of relief when Harm pulled over and parked the car. The Commander had to be the luckiest man alive not to have attracted the attention of every cop between here and Los Angeles with his driving. Charlie wouldn't go so far as to call him reckless but there was absolutely no doubt that Rabb was a fighter pilot. Now he knew why the Commander had insisted on driving. They'd shaved a good thirty minutes off the journey.

Stepping out of the car, Charlie decided it would be overly melodramatic to kiss the ground. Instead he walked back to the trunk and began pulling out their gear. Kneeling down, he checked over his pack, making sure everything was secure. He would be carrying most of what they were taking in. It hadn't been until they stepped into Roger's store that he realized Harm would never be able to tolerate a backpack with his shoulder. Roger had finally suggested a duffle with a single shoulder strap. They were traveling as lightly as possible but that didn't mean unprepared. Charlie was fairly certain they could cover every contingency.

Standing up, he slid on the backpack and adjusted the straps until everything felt balanced. Charlie looked over at Harm who was studying the map they'd picked up at the ranger station. "Okay, I'm ready."

Harm nodded, folding up the map and shoving into a side pouch before swinging the duffle onto his good shoulder. He pointed towards the south, "It looks like we need to head that way first and then veer east." Charlie's directions had put them on the eastern edge of the National Forest. They would be on the Grande Mesa reservation fairly soon.

"Alright," Charlie fell into step with Rabb and they started down the trail. As they walked, Charlie pulled his GPS unit out of a side pocket and turned it on.

"Nice," Harm glanced down, "Could have used something like that in some of the places I've been."

Charlie grinned, "It's paid for itself a couple of times already. I've entered the coordinates for Threetrails' house. The reservation is kind of L-shaped. The house is on the base portion in the southeast corner." He pointed towards the east, "Corral Mountain is in the way. I've plotted route across the northern face and then we can angle south and east from there." Charlie looked at Harm, "It's not going to be an easy trip. You need to tell me when you need a break. Seriously, Harm, don't overdo it. You're too big for me to carry." He smiled a little as he delivered that last line to take any sting out.

Harm eyed the younger man for a moment before nodding. His ego aside, Charlie had a point. Despite a growing sense of urgency about Mac, he needed to pace himself. It wouldn't do to need help himself.

Charlie hesitated a bit before bringing up his next concern, "If Mac is being held there, there's going to be guards. How are we going to get her out?"

Harm shrugged, his manner dismissive, "We call the FBI. If she's there, that's kidnapping and they don't need permission to enter the reservation." In truth, he doubted he would be so patient if they found Mac being held at the house but there was no need to worry Charlie about it this early into the trip.

"And then we get arrested, too, for trespassing," Charlie felt obligated to point that out.

"So?" Harm grinned, "I happen to know a good lawyer or two."

Charlie stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. The man sounded positively cavalier about their mission, which seemed to be at odds with his prior intense behavior. "You don't sound too worried right now."

Harm sighed a little before looking over at Charlie, "Don't get me wrong, I'll stop worrying when Mac's safe. It's just a relief to be finally doing something concrete."

"I know the feeling," Charlie nodded ruefully. "I know I'm not a trained agent or anything but it's tough sometimes to sit at the office when Don and the team head out after I've figured something out for them." Concentrating on the trail, the two men lapsed into a comfortable silence.

- - - - -

Unknown Location

1219 Local

Lonnie shifted the rifle on his shoulder as he trudged along beside James. Once more, a promising trail had come to a dead end and they were spending valuable time searching for where it picked up again. That bitch had the devil's own luck. They could never seem to catch up with her. The old man had been more than clear about his wishes - and the consequences. He wanted her alive but if that wasn't possible, they had better make damn sure she never made it out of the back country. James was growing more frustrated with every missed opportunity.

Lonnie wasn't frustrated. He was scared. He'd watched the Bear kill Johnny in cold blood and he didn't want to suffer the same fate. He had a wife and kids to think about. Not for the last time, he wished he'd never agreed to this job.

"Damn it!" James swore quietly even as his eyes continued to sweep the ground around them. He glanced over at Lonnie, "We're never going to catch her at this rate." His eyes went back to the ground, "Maybe we should try something else."

"Like what?" Lonnie sounded dejected.

James stopped, "Like what the Bear said - make sure she doesn't make it out of here."

"So? He also said he wants her back - alive," Lonnie turned to stare at James, his brow furrowing. "Killing her is a last resort." He'd known James for years and it was disconcerting to hear him talk about murder so easily.

"But we're not getting her back. Hell, we can't even get close. We are at our last resort," James leaned in, his voice becoming more intense, "Man, it's her or us and I don't wanna die."

"Me neither, but jeez, man, we're talking cold-blooded here. I don't know," Lonnie glanced away, shuffling uncomfortably. He looked back, "Anyway, what makes you think we can get a shot at her when we can't even find her?"

James straightened up, looking smug, "Because we know the direction she's heading. The trail leads west whenever the terrain allows. I say we forget trying to track her and head west for a ways. She's trying not to be found so we can move a lot faster. We get ahead and then find a high point and wait. I'll lay odds we'll get a shot."

Lonnie scratched the back of his head. The way James presented it sounded plausible but, "I don't know if I can do it, James. Just shoot somebody down like that."

"Look, don't think of it like that. Think of it like hunting coyote. It's just another varmint, that's all. Just keep telling yourself that. It'll be okay," James wheedled. "Lonnie, you gotta think about your family. This is one broad you don't even know versus your wife and your kids not having a dad anymore. Think about it." He stopped for a moment to let that sink in, "Tell you what. When we see her, we both take the shot. That way neither one of us will know for sure who got her." Lonnie brightened a little at that and James could practically see what he was thinking. He scowled a bit, "Man, you agree to this, you'd damn well better not be planning on missing. I wanna be able to sleep at night, too." He held out a hand, "Deal? We both take our best shot?"

Lonnie stared at James' hand for a long moment before reluctantly grasping it, "Okay, deal."

James grinned as he turned towards the west. He scanned the horizon for a couple of seconds and then pointed, "There, that peak over there. We'll be able to see most of the valley. Let's do this." Pulling his rifle off his shoulder, he picked up an easy jog.

Lonnie hesitated briefly before following suit and jogging after his friend. Maybe he'd get lucky and that damn woman would fall off a cliff or something and save him from having to kill her.

- - - - -

Grande Mesa Indian Reservation

1330 Local

"Charlie, I need a breather," Harm said quietly. They'd cleared Corral Mountain and while it wasn't that big in size, it had still been a strenuous trek. His shoulder was throbbing painfully.

Charlie turned around, "Okay, no problem."

They moved slightly off the path they'd been following and sat down on some rocks. Harm unslung the duffle bag with a sigh and carefully massaged his shoulder.

"How's the shoulder doing?" Charlie eased his pack off as well, squinting up at the sky. More sunblock was probably in order and he reached into a side pocket.

"There," Harm replied shortly and then arched an eyebrow, "How's your side?" He hadn't missed how often Charlie's hand had been pressed against his side as they'd scrambled over the knees of Corral Mountain.

"Aches," Charlie admitted, as he slathered on the sunblock. "The waist strap keeps hitting it. I'll live." He checked his GPS, "It looks like we can continue east almost all the way to the house. We'll cross Bloomdale Creek and then stay in the valley for maybe a mile and a quarter. Then we'll have to turn north a little bit and then east again. We should be there in an hour." Although his voice was matter-of-fact, Charlie was beginning to feel nervous. Somehow, it didn't seem so cut and dried anymore. These people were ruthless. Anything could happen before the FBI arrived. What if they'd killed Mac? Or worse, were about to kill her? Harm would never permit that to happen. He'd go charging in and then what? The Commander sounded like he'd been in life or death situations before. Charlie was certain his knees would turn to water at the first sign of danger.

"Charlie, it'll be okay."

Harm's voice cut into his thoughts and Charlie turned to see Rabb watching him sympathetically. He flushed a bit in embarrassment, ducking his head. "Sorry," he mumbled, "I guess I'm not as brave as I thought I'd be."

"Yeah, you are," Harm smiled when the professor gave him a disbelieving look. "You're here, Charlie, when you could have still been sitting in LA. You'll be fine." He unfastened a water bottle from his belt and took a drink. Suddenly, he was hit by an overwhelming thirst. That was followed by disjointed and frightening image of sand, rocks and brush swirling and tumbling. Harm shot to his feet, yanking up the duffle bag and slinging it crossways over his good shoulder, "We have to go. Now."

"What?! Harm, wait," Charlie scrambled up, shrugging the backpack onto his shoulders again and trying to fasten various clips as he hurried after Rabb. He caught up to him as Bloomdale Creek came into view. "Harm, what's wrong?"

"I don't know for sure," Harm didn't slacken his stride, "It's Mac. We have to hurry."

"What? Mac? How - ?" Charlie lost ground as he used the stepping stones across the creek. Harm had just plowed through the water. Gritting his teeth, Charlie put a hand to his side and broke into a jog to catch up. "Harm, stop! What are you talking about?"

"Something's wrong - going to be wrong," Harm was panting from the effort of hurrying over the rough and broken ground. An arroyo appeared between two hills and Harm stopped abruptly, nearly causing Charlie to crash into him. After a few seconds, he pointed at it, "That way."

"But that's the wrong way! Harm! There's nothing south of here. Harm!" Frustrated, Charlie chased after the Commander once again. He was seriously considering tackling Rabb - a plan that didn't bode well for either of them - when the loud boom of gunshot filled the air.

Both Harm and Charlie froze and then Harm was sprinting forward. Charlie took off after him a split second later. Harm was almost to the brow of a low hill when Charlie lunged forward with a superhuman effort and caught him around the ankles, bringing him down. Harm laid where he'd landed, breathing heavily, the pain from his shoulder effectively immobilizing him.

Gasping from the run and the force of his landing, Charlie rolled onto his good side, fumbling with the release clips of his backpack. It felt like someone had hit him in the side with a baseball bat. Shrugging off the pack, he crawled up to the brow of the hill, making use of the chaparral for cover. Cautiously, he scanned the landscape in front of him, searching for whoever had been shooting. Charlie inhaled sharply when he saw a crumpled figure at the bottom of the ravine below an outcropping of rock. Oh god.

"Mac?" The anguish in that whisper was plain and Charlie looked over to see Harm had crawled up beside him.

- - - - -

Grande Mesa Indian Reservation

1330 Local

Lonnie scanned the area below him once again while James scanned in the other direction. They'd been sitting on this peak for nearly an hour and hadn't seen anything but a rabbit or two. Lonnie couldn't decide if he was grateful or not. Would the Bear really kill him for failing? Bander had always seemed like a fair and reasonable man before. None of this made sense.

He heard James' sharp intake of breath and turned towards his partner. "You see her?" he whispered, not wanting to take any chances of sound carrying. He tried to ignore how his stomach dropped. There'd be no going back after this.

"Yeah," James whispered back. He glanced over as Lonnie moved in beside him and then pointed, "Down there in the brush."

"I don't - okay, got her," Lonnie peered through his scope, following the woman's progress. She was good, he'd give her that. She was never exposed for more than a second. "I can't get a good fix on her. Too much brush."

"Yeah, me too." James swung his scope further west. "Hey, over here. There's a little clearing. If she keeps going the way she is, she'll have to cross it.

Lonnie frowned, studying the area, "And if we miss, that's it. She'll be out of sight and out of reach. See the ledge? It drops off right there. She gets below that and we'll never catch up with her again."

"So we don't miss," James replied and then glanced at Lonnie with a slight frown. "Remember your wife and kids, Lon. You can't afford to miss."

"I know, I know," Lonnie's voice was a low growl as he swung back to pick up the woman again. It took a few seconds to locate her and in that time, he found himself wishing she'd turned and gone another way. His luck was all bad today, she was still headed for the clearing. Exhaling slowly, he waited as she approached the open area. It wasn't going to be an easy shot even if he wasn't having doubts about what he had to do. She was nearly at the extreme end of his range. He focused on the scrub brush for a moment and decided the wind was negligible, all he would have to account for was the arc of the bullet. Lonnie knew he was the better marksman of the two. He could make this shot. James knew it too, which was no doubt why he'd pushed so hard. It had been nice of him to propose a plan so that neither or both could take credit for the kill but Lonnie was well aware that it would be his shot that ended that woman's life. He would have to deal with it. He owed his family and James that much.

"There she is," James breathed softly, "On three. One - two - " Both fired at the same time, sounding like a single gunshot. Lonnie watched the woman hit the ground and then slide over the ledge and disappear. He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing he'd be reliving that moment for the rest of his life.

- - - - -

Grande Mesa Indian Reservation

1340 Local

Mac eyed the flat, rocky area in front of her and frowned. She hated having to cross spots like these, hated feeling exposed as she hurried across. It was getting harder each time to pick up some sort of speed and still maintain her balance. She'd been stumbling more often lately. Her hands and knees were taking a beating and she was pretty sure she'd sprained her wrist again. The rest stops were becoming more frequent but she couldn't seem to shake the fatigue that had settled in. Mac took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She was procrastinating and she needed to get moving. Taking one more look around, she stepped out into the open and forced herself into a shuffling jog. Five seconds, that was all she'd need to reach cover on the other side.

Halfway across, her foot slipped on a loose rock causing her ankle to twist painfully. Mac stumbled sideways, tipping over as her leg gave way. As she reached out instinctively with her hands to break the fall, the world suddenly exploded around her. She hit the ground hard enough to bounce and then she was in free-fall. As consciousness slipped away, her last thought was that Harm was going to be mad...


	32. Chapter 32

Finally, an update. Sorry about that, everyone. Today marks the end of a thirteen day streak of work. My paycheck will look great but my house is a wreck and I've been missing practices, lessons - and writing. So, inbetween vacuuming and straightening, I've spent the day on this. I understand if some of you have given up on this story. I hate waiting forever for updates, too. Those of you that are left - I hope you're still enjoying it and thank you.

Chapter 32

Grande Mesa Indian Reservation

1345 Local

Charlie grabbed the back of Harm's shirt with both hands and hung on. After a few brief seconds of stillness, the Commander had suddenly begun to move, his intention clear. "Harm, wait!" he whispered urgently.

"Let go," Harm's voice was chillingly cold. He had to get to her and Charlie was dug in like a damn anchor.

"I will. Harm, listen to me. The shooter is still out there," Charlie spoke through gritted teeth as both men continued to struggle.

"I - don't - care." Harm was dead serious. The entire Chinese army could be out there and it wouldn't have mattered. He needed to reach Mac.

"I do. You think getting yourself killed will make it better? Wait another thirty seconds - that's all I'm asking," Charlie was getting desperate. Even one-handed, Harm was a lot stronger.

Harm stopped, surprised into stillness, "What?"

Charlie took a deep, relieved breath, "Look, if you've... " he stopped for a moment, "What's the first thing a sniper does after taking his shot?"

"Runs like hell," Harm snapped, "How should I know... " He paused suddenly, "No, he watches to make sure his target is down."

"Right," Charlie said with a grim smile, "And then he moves. So we wait a little bit more and then we go get her."

Harm nodded slowly and Charlie cautiously released his hold, taking a moment to flex and loosen his hands. In silent accord they made their way down the slope and edged towards the opening of the ravine. Charlie took a cautious look. The view wasn't as clear as it had been from up above. The terrain gently zigzagged into a gradual curve. The Colonel had landed where the ravine disappeared behind the next slope. He could just see her upper half. He cleared his throat, "I'd say about fifty, maybe sixty yards."

Harm squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and then looked himself, "The first twenty yards will be in the open. After that, we'll be covered by the ledge." He steeled himself and looked further up the ravine. His eyes widened and he grabbed Charlie's shoulder, his voice a hoarse whisper, "Oh my god, she moved. Come on." With that, Harm scrambled over the brow of the hill, staying as low to the ground as he could, Charlie following right behind him. They were almost to the ledge when another gunshot rang out. Both men put on another burst of speed, diving the last few feet to the shelter of the overhang.

Charlie laid there panting, feeling the adrenalin and fear course through. He cringed as a third shot sounded. This was entirely too soon after his own shooting - what the hell had he been thinking!? He had to be seven kinds of an idiot for brazening his way onto this trip without, apparently, considering that something like this might actually happen. Maybe eight kinds, no, definitely eight - eight squared - eight to the power of... Actually, the magnitude of his idiocy was probably incalcuable. He could try. Hell, if he could get his brain to unclench, he could probably come up with some sort of algorithm. Maybe he could write a paper on it, get it published under the heading of 'I Should Have Known Better' or 'Oops, That's Gonna Leave a Mark'. What possible use was he in this situation? He wasn't his brother, he couldn't brush this off as part of the job - he was a mathematician for godsakes. He could fire off equations with the best of them but bullets? It didn't take a genius to figure out how one-sided this fight was going to be.

"Charlie!"

Harm's fierce whisper finally broke in on his mental tirade and Charlie swiveled his head towards the Commander, "What?"

"You okay?"

Charlie stared at him incredulously. Okay? Someone was shooting at them! He was decidedly un-okay and becoming more un-okay with each passing moment. He opened his mouth for a scathing reply, took a breath and listened in amazement as he heard himself say, "Yeah, you?"

"So far. Let's go, we don't have much time," Harm was already putting action to words, moving past Charlie and up the ravine, staying close to the ground.

Nine kinds of an idiot. Charlie turned over and hurried to catch up with the Commander.

- - - - -

"Got her!" James leaned back and smiled in satisfaction. It was about time something went right today. His smile dimmed a bit as Lonnie rose abruptly to his feet and turned away. "Aw, c'mon man. We had to do it. You know that."

"Shut up, James. Just shut up," Lonnie stalked off a little ways. He was angry - with himself, with James, and with Bander. Mostly with Bander, he decided. If that old man hadn't gotten all crazy about this woman, neither he nor James would have been here. He was a murderer now, a stone-cold killer because of that miserable son of a bitch.

James shook his head as he watched Lonnie stomp off. He was a good guy but moody as hell. Oh well, he'd just have to get over it. Done was done. James swung back and looked back down the slope. That had been a hell of a shot. What were they? Half a mile, maybe? That far in a straight line, for sure, probably a bit further in actual terrain. That was worth some bragging rights. He'd just change the target to a deer or something. Of course, they'd need to get down there and grab something to confirm their story; maybe shove the body in a crevice to get it out of sight on the off-chance that anyone might wander by this god-forsaken corner of the reservation.

He started to turn to tell Lonnie that when movement further up the valley caught his eye. What the hell? James swung his rifle up and peered through the scope. Son of a ... "Lonnie!" he snapped as he squeezed off a round, "We got a problem." He fired another round and then swore.

"What?" Lonnie knelt beside him, bringing his own rifle up, "What're you shooting at?"

"A couple of hikers - witnesses, goddammit," James shot again out of pure frustration. "They ducked behind the ledge."

"What?! You sure?" Lonnie swept the area with his scope.

"No, I just thought I'd sit here and take potshots at jackrabbits," James spat. "Yeah, I'm sure."

Lonnie pulled his rifle up, "Man, we gotta get out of here."

James shot out a hand, grabbing Lonnie's sleeve, "No, we gotta get rid of those witnesses."

"Why? They don't know who we are. No one can prove anything. Let's get out of here," Lonnie stared at James.

"For god sakes, Lonnie, how stupid are you?" James was red-faced, "Those guys will have the cops crawling all over this area. You think the Feds can't figure stuff out? Dammit, don't you watch those forensic shows? They find her body now and we're looking at the death penalty."

"And killing more people is how you wanna fix that? Man, you're nuts!," Lonnie shook off James' hand.

"Listen to me. The only way we get caught is if they find the bodies too soon. No bodies - no case. We take down these guys, hide 'em in the scrub and Mother Nature does the rest. By the time the scavengers get done, no one will know how any of them died. We're home-free." James glared at his friend, "We have to do this. I'm not going to Death Row over some crazy bitch. It's survival of the fittest, man. Come on, let's go." Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, James started down the slope, not bothering to look back.

Lonnie watched James walk away for a few seconds before shaking his head and jogging after him, "Wait up, I'm coming." James was right, this was about survival. Lonnie's expression hardened. And after he did what he had to do here, he would take his newly-honed skills and pay Carson Bander a visit.

- - - - -

"Ow." Had she managed to say that out loud? Mac dragged a hand up towards her head but stopped short of actually touching. She breathed slowly for a moment, taking inventory. Arms and legs moved, although not willingly. Head, arm, ankle - all helpfully throbbing a little more than the rest to let her know they felt particularly abused. She'd fallen down the hill? No, stumbled and twisted an ankle and then... then there'd been a gunshot, maybe two - ? Mac froze, waiting for her body to deliver that singularly unique explosion of pain and then cautiously exhaled when it didn't occur. They'd missed? How could that be?

Her time sense jumped into the fray, giving her a jolt. Three minutes and twelve seconds? Oh hell, those two dimwitted thugs could be nearly on top of her by now. Mac forced her eyes open and then squeezed them shut again. Getting moving again might be harder than she thought. Damn, what she wouldn't give for some water right now... and a nice, soft bed. Her time sense helpfully pointed out that it was now four minutes and twenty-two seconds - and counting. "Shut up, already." Mac muttered as she gritted her teeth in preparation for rolling onto her side. She was pretty certain she wasn't going to enjoy this.

Her moan quickly shifted to a gasp as Mac rolled to her left. She dropped back onto her back, grabbing her left arm just above the elbow and hissing softly. Okay, maybe they hadn't missed entirely. Suddenly, the loud report of a rifle shot echoed and reflexes took over, sending her up against the cover of a rocky ledge before she had time to think. Mac bit her lip to suppress a cry. Moving had hurt like hell. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to control her breathing so she could hear. Where were they? They had to be either a good distance away or the world's worst shots to have missed this time. Another shot sounded and Mac couldn't help pressing further into the rock. She had no idea where the bullet landed. "Kate? Avis?" she whispered, "Where -?"

"Top of a hill, six - seven hundred yards away," Kate's voice sounded softer and further away. "I'm sorry about this."

So it was the distance. "Not your fault", Mac replied quietly and then frowned, "You okay?" Kate was getting harder to hear.

"It's no big deal. I need to - recharge, I guess you'd call it. Avis will be back soon."

Mac gave a brief nod, trying not to disturb her head too much more. It sounded right - she was pretty sure both Kate and Avis had mentioned limits on their energy before and, God knew, this little adventure was taxing for everyone. Then the last part of what Kate had just said filtered through the perpetual fog she seemed to be in and she opened her eyes again, "Back? Back from where?"

Before Kate could answer, Mac heard the sound she'd been dreading since she'd come to at the bottom of the hill - the sound of feet on rock. Her heart started hammering as she shot a frantic look around her surroundings. Even before she'd looked, Mac knew it was hopeless. There was no cover to be had and even if there was, no way she could get there in time. She shifted so that she could face her adversaries, hefting a rock in her right hand. It wasn't a hell of a lot, but she'd be damned if she'd give in without a fight.

- - - - -

Harm approached the last bend quickly, intent on reaching Mac before the shooter came down from his nest. She was alive, he knew that much, but how badly was she hurt? They would need to move fast and that would be tough if she had to be carried. He had his service weapon with him but it was no match against high-powered rifles. Stealth and speed would be their key to escape.

Rounding the curve, the first thing Harm saw was a rock sailing at him. Reflexes honed by years as a fighter pilot had him ducking almost instantly. The rock flew past and a moment later, he heard Charlie exclaim 'Ow! Hey!" He didn't particularly care. He was staring at Mac who was braced against a ledge, her hand groping for another rock. She was dirty, disheveled - and gorgeous.

"Mac," Harm breathed softly and then his eyes widened and he ducked again as she launched another missile. "Mac! Stand down! It's me!"

Mac froze for a split second in the act of reaching for a third rock. Harm? No, it couldn't be. Not out here in the middle of nowhere. Her head was playing tricks on her - trying to make something tolerable out of an intolerable situation. She grabbed the third stone and heaved it, knowing she probably wouldn't get another throw in. This would be her last hurrah before they grabbed her. She was in no shape for hand to hand combat.

Mac heard a satisfying thud, closely followed a quiet curse. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the rocks, resigned to what was coming next. She tensed as a hand touched her arm, bracing herself for the painful yank upwards.

- - - - -

"Mac? It's me. I'm here. Come on, Marine, don't space on me now," Harm lightly rubbed her right arm as he took in her condition. As much as he would have preferred to sit and hold her for a good long while, the fact was that they couldn't stay here. Callous as it seemed, his first order of business was to ascertain her ability to move, either on her own or with help. While Mac obviously hadn't lost her throwing arm, she really did look like she'd been through the wringer. There didn't seem to be a square inch of her that wasn't covered in dirt, bruises or scrapes. Thank god there didn't seem to be any major injuries. The miserable bastard who'd been doing the shooting had obviously missed, "Mac?"

Mac squeezed her eyes shut a little tighter. What the hell were they playing at? This was just plain cruel. "Stop it," she whispered, trying to pull her arm away.

"Mac, Sarah, open your eyes and look at me," Harm shot a worried glance back at Charlie. This wasn't quite the reception he'd hoped for.

"Sarah," Avis' voice spoke softly from beside her, "Harm's truly here."

What? Mac's eyes flew open. She blinked furiously a couple of times, trying to clear her vision. As the fuzziness ebbed, she stared in amazement, "Harm? Harm! How - ?" She clutched at the hand he had on her arm, needing the physical contact.

Letting go of her arm, Harm intertwined their fingers, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. He was so relieved he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. In the end Harm settled for grinning cheekily, "Don't look so surprised, Marine. This is why the Navy's in charge of moving Jarheads. We're great at finding places."

Her head still too clouded for a proper retort, Mac settled for what she hoped was a quelling look, "You'll pay for that later, Squid."

Harm's voice dropped into the intimate range as he answered softly, "I'm counting on it." He cleared his throat and straightened up slightly, aware that Charlie was now hovering in the background, looking about nervously. "Sweetheart, we need to get moving."

Mac nodded wearily, licking dry lips, "Water?"

"Oh god, of course, I'm sorry," Harm felt like smacking himself in the head as he pulled a water bottle out of the side pocket of his duffle. Mac all but snatched it out of his hands as he extended it to her. He put out a hand as she began to drink greedily, "Whoa, slow down. You'll make yourself sick."

Nodding reluctantly, Mac forced herself to take smaller sips. It was still the most wonderful taste in the whole world.

Harm watched her for a moment longer before checking the time. He could hear Charlie shifting restlessly just behind him. They really needed to move. "Mac?" He waited for her to swallow the last mouthful, "How long since that last shot?"

"Three minutes, forty-two seconds," Mac answered with a mild grimace as she reluctantly handed the water back. They'd wasted enough time. Her eyes widened slightly as she caught sight of Charlie, "Charlie? What - ?"

"Hey Colonel," Charlie smiled weakly. As glad as he was to see her alive, he much preferred to savor the moment later - when some nut wasn't on the verge of killing them.

"Damn," Harm muttered, taking a quick look around. He should have paid closer attention to the time. No wonder Charlie was fidgeting. A man could cover a lot of ground in three or four minutes. "Mac, we have to leave now."

"They're only halfway down the hill. There's no trail and it's rough ground. They're not moving very fast," Avis interjected helpfully.

"So we have a little time. Which way are they coming from?" Mac spoke without thinking. She'd gotten used to talking out loud to Avis and Kate.

"From the northwest - your right," Avis replied.

Harm and Charlie exchanged worried looks. Mac patently hadn't been talking to either of them. "They who?" Harm asked while eyeing her anxiously. Megan had said she thought Mac had a concussion. Judging from the size of the bruise on her forehead, and the fact she was talking to thin air, that was a real possibility.

"Hmmm?" Mac frowned as she looked back at Harm. It took a moment to refocus her attention as he repeated his question. She waved her right hand to the side, "Those two jerks who've been chasing me. It's taking them a while to find their way down the hill. We've got a little breathing space."

"How could you -?" Harm didn't finish the question as Mac's face took on a closed expression. He'd have to pursue this at a later date.

She pulled her feet in and reached towards him, "Help me up?"

"Always." Repositioning the duffle, Harm drew Mac's arm across his shoulders as he crouched down beside her. Wrapping an arm around her waist, Harm stood, hauling her up with him. As he'd halfway expected, she was unsteady enough that he was supporting most of her weight. "Can you walk, Marine?"

Mac blinked at him, their position and those words triggering a strong sense of deja vu. After a moment, she smiled, "Have to. Unless you plan to carry me."

Harm grinned back. Maybe the concussion wasn't too bad if she could remember that long-ago conversation. He dutifully repeated his part, "Well, maybe, if you'd laid off the Beltway Burgers."

"Or you'd worked out more."

They stood there smiling at each other until Charlie nervously cleared his throat, "Umm, guys? Shouldn't we get going?" Good grief, how often did these two get into life and death situations that they could be so nonchalant about approaching gunmen? Two shooters, not one, and that's the only part of what the Colonel had said that he gave credence. They could be just around the next bend for all anyone knew.

"Yeah, sorry," Harm ducked his head a bit guiltily. It'd felt so good having Mac in his embrace again that, despite the circumstances, he'd let himself get distracted. He glanced down at Mac, "Which way?"

Mac paused and then nodded to the left, "It's clear that way, they're coming from the northwest."

"Left it is," Harm started them off, walking past a somewhat perplexed Charlie, "Come on, Professor."

"But," Charlie stood for a moment before shaking his head and hurrying to catch up. There were really only two directions to go and without any firm data on the position of the shooters, it truly was a 50-50 proposition. He could only hope they'd chosen the right direction. As they rounded the first bend, a gust of wind picked up, creating a small dust devil that skipped and blew back the way they'd been.

Harm did his best to stay on the more rocky areas, trying to leave as little trail as possible. He knew he was probably moving faster than Mac would have liked, but she was gamely trying to keep up. Harm was hoping to get enough distance so that they could take a break and treat some of her injuries. He glanced down at her. She was panting as she looked straight ahead, her expression one of focused determination.

"Harm?" Charlie ranged up on the opposite side, his voice low. "The back of Mac's left arm is bleeding - up above the elbow." It hadn't been noticeable earlier when she'd been leaning up against the ledge. "It's, umm, dripping."

Damn. Harm glanced at Mac again. She'd hadn't appeared to have heard Charlie. It wasn't surprising. He'd seen her do this before - tune all extraneous distractions out while pursuing a single goal - in this case, it was keeping her feet moving while staying upright. Harm slowed down, "Can you get a bandage on it? They'll be able to follow a blood trail."

Charlie nodded slowly, trying not to look too squeamish. He'd never dealt with anything more serious than a scrape before. "We'll have to stop for a minute."

Harm nodded a little reluctantly. Right now, he was begrudging any delay but this had to be done. He stopped and gave Mac a reassuring smile as she looked at him questioningly. "Your arm is bleeding. Charlie's going to get a bandage on it." She nodded wordlessly, closing her eyes and resting her head against his chest. Fortunately, Charlie was quick and soon they were on their way again. Worried about the men pursuing them, Harm upped the pace a little bit more.

Twenty minutes later, they entered a long, low valley. Harm looked over at Charlie, "Any idea where we are?"

Charlie pulled out his GPS, "Southern slope of Palomar Mountain, we're headed for the Sutherland Reservoir." He glanced around, "There's a series of dirt roads to the south that lead there."

Harm nodded, "So we've left the reservation?"

"Yeah, you think, maybe, they'll stop chasing us?" Charlie asked, "We're going to be running into people soon." He hoped so, anyway. Bodies of water and roads equaled fishermen and park rangers. This was an isolated area but surely someone would be around.

"Hard to say," Harm answered slowly. He didn't want to upset Charlie but if he was the pursuer, he'd be pushing twice as hard to prevent his prey from reaching safety. The danger they were in was growing, not lessening. He angled them closer to the brush, not wanting to be so obviously in open. Harm knew he couldn't push any faster, no matter how tempting it was to get through this area as quickly as possible. Mac was leaning on him heavily. She was going to need a break soon.

"Sarah! Get out of sight," Avis' voice sounded suddenly in Mac's ear, causing her to jerk upright a little more. "Those men are about to have a view of this valley."

"Mac?" Harm looked at her worriedly.

She turned wide eyes towards him, "We have to hide. Now. They're going to see us." When Harm just stared at her, she shoved herself away, staggering towards a small copse of scrub oak.

Harm caught up with her within a step, grabbing her around the waist again and hurrying towards the trees. "Move, Charlie," he snapped over his shoulder. He wasn't quite sure what was going on but he had his suspicions. They could sort it out after they reached the trees.

Less than half a minute later, they ducked under the cover of the trees. Mac's knees buckled almost immediately. Harm followed her down, easing her onto the ground. She curled in on herself, eyes tightly closed, her breathing ragged. Even with Harm's support, this last trek had been hard. Her head was pounding again and she was both dizzy and nauseous.

"Give me the first aid kit," Harm asked Charlie as he pulled the water bottle out of his duffle again. If possible, Mac was looking worse than before. He'd set too hard a pace and felt guilty as hell. "Mac, take a drink," he gently pushed her onto her back as he spoke, sliding a hand under her head and holding the bottle up to her lips.

After a couple of small sips, Mac turned her head away. "I'm gonna be sick," she whispered miserably. Harm helped her turn to the right as she began to retch. The water she'd just had came up but not much else. Harm held her until the spasms passed and then pulled her halfway into his lap. Wetting a bandana from his bag, he carefully dabbed at her face. He looked up when Charlie knelt alongside, handing over the first aid kit.

The young man offered his water bottle, too, "Here. It's some Gatorade I mixed up. She needs to replace electrolytes." When Harm took it gratefully, Charlie dug into a side pocket and pulled out a couple of powerbars. "If she can keep that down, see if she can handle one of these." He glanced towards the tree line, "I'm going to take a quick look." He raised a hand when it looked like Harm was about to protest, "I promise I'll keep out of sight but then we need to talk."

Charlie was back a short time later, looking bemused. Harm eyed him curiously. While waiting, he'd gotten a small amount of Gatorade into Mac. He'd also turned her on her side so he could reach her left arm. He'd been relieved to see that it wasn't a gunshot wound. It looked like shards of rock. The bullet obviously missed but not by much and she'd caught some shrapnel. He was cleaning it while he waited to see how she handled the Gatorade. Charlie shook his head slightly. "Definitely someone up at the head of the valley. I saw a quick reflection off metal." He paused for a moment, "And there's a small dust storm going on out there, too."

Harm frowned, glancing up at the trees around them. There was hardly a breeze. "Are you sure?" he finally asked.

"I don't know what else to call it," Charlie raised his hands, "You can see the wind blowing out there and it's stirring up a big cloud of dust."

"Coverin' our tracks," Mac's eyes were still closed and her voice was muffled from her position draped over Harm's leg.

Harm and Charlie exchanged a look. "What?" Harm finally asked, drawing a hand softly through her hair.

Mac was silent for a while longer. Then she cracked an eye open, "They've lost the trail."

Charlie stared at her incredulously, "You don't know that. You can't know that."

"Yes she can," Harm stated quietly. "We'll stay here for a bit." When Charlie gave him a disbelieving look, he shook his head, "It's more dangerous to move right now. We'll lay low, give Mac a chance to rest." He glanced down at her for a moment and then looked back up at Charlie, "Have you checked lately to see whether you can get a signal on your cell phone?" They'd been in a dead zone almost as soon as they crossed onto the reservation. Even Harm hadn't had any success on his.

Charlie shook his head as he pulled out his cell phone. He wasn't sure what was going on between Harm and the Colonel but the Commander's other reasons seemed sound. It was a fact that predators (and that included humans) were more apt to locate prey by movement. Staying still was a sound strategy with the added bonus of giving Mac some much needed rest. He checked his phone and then took a second look. He had a signal! He looked up at Harm with a relieved grin, brandishing the phone, "I've got bars."

Harm smiled back, "Great, call your brother, tell him where we are and that we've got Mac."

Charlie nodded, hitting his speed dial. After a moment, he smiled, "Don?... Hey - "

The next moment he was holding the phone away from his ear. Even Harm could hear Don's furious voice, "...mit! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"


	33. Chapter 33

Here we are again - work continues unabated. My paycheck is phenomenal; the amount of sleep and the rest of my life - not so much. Hopefully, a light has appeared at the end of the tunnel. Management, in its infinite wisdom, has finally hired another artist for our department. It will take a little while for her to get up to speed (both figuratively and literally) but then, perhaps, I can quit working 6 and 7 days a week - fingers and toes are crossed.

On a completely off-topic note, has anyone else out there caught Susan Boyle's audition on 'Britain's Got Talent'? I don't usually watch those types of shows but she made the news here in the States. What an incredible performance!

Chapter 33

Tuesday,

Eppes residence

Pasadena, CA

1510 Local

"Charlie? Dad?" Don called as he walked into the family home. He'd stopped by CalSci on his way back to the office only to find that Charlie had taken most of the day off.

"Donnie?" Alan walked out of the kitchen, drying his hands on a dishtowel. "You're here early. Is everything okay? I stopped by to see Megan this morning. Did you find Mac?"

"Not yet," Don ran a hand through his hair, "I need Charlie. Is he here?"

Alan shook his head, "Not since this morning, I think. He stopped by with Commander Rabb and then left again. Amita might know where he is. I heard him talking to her."

"Damn," Don muttered as he turned around, "I just left CalSci." He hated wasting time and what he needed to talk to Charlie about didn't need to be discussed over a cell phone. There were too many ways to intercept the signal.

"Wait," Alan held out a hand, "Amita's here. She's out in the garage, working on something for Charlie. We were going to have dinner together while we wait for him to get back."

Don's eyes narrowed slightly, "Back? Back from where?" Charlie had been with Rabb? He was beginning to get a knot in his stomach. Surely Rabb knew better than to involve his brother in any harebrained mission.

Alan shifted slightly, his parental instincts kicking in, "I don't really know. Why? Is something wrong? What aren't you telling me?"

"C'mon Dad," Don lifted his hands, looking exasperated, "I don't know anything yet. Let me talk to Amita." After Alan reluctantly nodded, Don turned and hurried out the back to the garage. Not wanting to startle her, he knocked quietly on the door frame before entering.

Amita looked up from her laptop and smiled at Don, "Hey Don, Charlie's not here right now."

Don moved further into the room, "Yeah, so I've heard. Do you know where he is?"

Amita chewed at her lower lip as she considered what to say. Don seemed on edge and she didn't want to be responsible for causing more friction between the brothers. On the other hand, Don would also move heaven and earth to keep Charlie safe. Finally, she sighed. When Charlie had told her where he was going with Commander Rabb, she'd been ready to strangle the JAG officer. That anger had turned to exasperation when Charlie admitted that he'd practically blackmailed the Commander in order to accompany him. Charlie was certain that the Colonel was being held at Grande Mesa and he couldn't stand by and let Harm go by himself to attempt a rescue. Once Charlie had put it that way, Amita found she couldn't object any more. If it had been her, she knew Charlie would find her, regardless of the rules, and she also knew she wouldn't want him to do it alone. So, after extracting promises that he wouldn't do anything foolish or dangerous and that all they would do was confirm whether or not Colonel MacKenzie was there and alert the law, she'd hugged him tight and let him go.

"Amita?" She'd been staring at him long enough that Don could feel the knot in his gut take another couple of twists. Dammit, he knew exactly where his brother was and it was a toss-up as to who he'd kill first, Charlie or Rabb. Then his cell phone rang.

- - - - -

Earlier

Downtown Los Angeles, CA

1045 Local

Husam ducked back into an alcove and listened carefully. The sounds of pursuit faded and after a few more seconds, he eased out and continued on his way. These tunnels reminded him of the cave systems in Afghanistan. Obviously more finished and well-lit but almost as extensive. Knowing the number of things that could go wrong with this mission, he'd taken the time to study and learn what he could of this maze. It was time well spent. Wrong couldn't even begin to describe what had happened this morning. Husam jaw clenched once again in anger as he turned down a little-used service tunnel. Either Allah was truly against their success because of the infidels he'd been forced to work with or they had been betrayed.

He was more inclined to believe the latter. There was no other reasonable explanation for the disaster visited upon his careful planning. There were dozens of junctions where one could access the main water line to downtown LA and any number of days when it could have been attempted. That the FBI, that that thrice-cursed dog, Don Eppes had been waiting for him told him that someone had talked. Husam stopped again and listened. The Federal agents were still searching, would continue to search until they found him. He had no intention of letting that happen. Rashid had died rather than be taken but Husam wasn't planning on going that route either. He was valuable. His expertise was in convincing others to martyrdom. He knew it would be an offense to Allah to waste such talent by taking that path himself. He hefted the backpack he was carrying. This was the other reason not to give up. He still had a portion of the containers that Pablo had brewed. It was possible he could salvage part of this operation.

- - - - -

Don activated his com unit, keeping his voice soft, "Anything?" Various responses of 'no' came filtering back and he shook his head at Lt. Walker, "Nothing yet."

Walker nodded, most of his attention on the tunnel they were currently creeping through. The operation had been mostly a success. When he'd gotten the call from Eppes, he'd mobilized his people quickly, setting a perimeter and alerting SWAT that their efforts would be needed. He and Eppes had built a good working relationship. The Fed had always been straight with him and he returned the favor. There was also the matter of Don's not-so-secret weapon, his younger brother, Charlie. Walker had learned to respect the young professor's theories and opinions. So, when Don called and said that Charlie had come up with a location for a potential terror attack and that time was a factor, Walker had acted rather than questioned.

The Homeland Security puke, on the other hand, had been a real pain in the ass. He'd shown up already pissed at the lack of time they had, was openly skeptical of Charlie's conclusions and condescending as hell towards both Walker and Eppes. Then he'd declared jurisdiction and wanted complete control over the various departments involved, despite not being completely up to speed on what was happening. There was no way Walker would relinquish his authority. Cooperate? Hell, yes, but turn over control to that arrogant, overbearing jackass? No way. He'd seen these types before. If anything went wrong - and something invariably did - that SOB would be the first to throw Walker and the LAPD under the bus.

Don apparently felt the same way but had approached the matter in a different way. He'd calmly agreed and then immediately gone on the offensive, asking for a plan of action, how the various officers would be deployed, how the different departments would communicate with each other, what contingency plans were in place; in short, the million and one details that went into an op. The Homeland jerk had still been stuttering over the first question by the time Don was on his fourth. Both men had fallen silent and then Don had pointed at the CP truck and told the Homeland guy to go there, sit down and stay the hell out of the way. After that, things had moved quickly and smoothly. They were staging a couple of blocks from the intersection. Walker already had his people quietly emptying the little storefronts in the area, so he could listen in while Don went over the tactical situation with the SWAT leader. By the time the contractor truck had arrived and begun setting up their detour signs, there were snipers posted on buildings and teams below in the tunnels. The local CDC liaison had been notified and hospital administrators alerted to a possible bio-terrorism attack.

Despite the fact that they'd been surprised and outmaneuvered, the terrorists fought back. One had died immediately, another been wounded and then things had gotten dicey. No one knew where the vials and the horror they contained, were being held. The SWAT and FBI agents were attempting to place their shots - a difficult thing to do in a firefight - while the terrorists seemed hellbent on filling the air with as much lead as possible. As in the nature of most firefights, it had been over after a few minutes, despite appearing to the participants to have lasted for hours. It was when SWAT and the Feds moved in to secure the scene that they discovered that one of the terrorists was missing. The remaining terrorist had also been wounded and, surprisingly, had been mad as hell at the one who'd disappeared. It supported the theory that these were mercenaries rather than religious or political zealots. Don had been on the scene with his team during the firefight and called Walker as soon as it was over and that there was a problem.

Walker, steadfastly ignoring the annoying recriminations from the Homeland Security puke, had quickly organized a search grid while calling in extra units to bolster the perimeter. Their quarry was on foot in the sewer system, there weren't many places he could go. After getting things in place, he'd grabbed a layout of the sewer system and gone to join Don in the hunt. Which was how he and Don wound up making their way through a dark, smelly tunnel searching for some nut carrying a biological time bomb.

- - - - -

Tuesday,

South of Palomar Mountain

1420 Local

Lonnie watched as James scoured the ground around them once more. The two of them had gotten the shock of their lives when they finally made it down the hill. There was nothing there. No body, no hikers, no trail. James had been beside himself. Lonnie had wisely kept his initial relief hidden but now he was beginning to feel as anxious as James. The MacKenzie woman had escaped - again, and the signs of her passage had disappeared - again. The one thing that wasn't going to disappear was Bander's wrath. If they wanted to live, they had to find her.

He looked back up the way they came and then climbed up to the top of the ravine. If he didn't know better, he'd swear the god of mischief, Coyote, had taken human form. How else to explain what had happened at the house and everything since then? It was just as plausible as the ghosts that Bander seemed to believe in. After looking at the hilltop where they'd been positioned, he studied the surrounding area. After a few seconds, Lonnie started climbing. About five minutes later, he stood panting on edge of a small plateau. Checking the hilltop again, he lined himself up with the trajectory of the shot he'd taken and studied the scene. It took a little bit, but he finally figured out where MacKenzie had to have been when they'd fired at her. Moving forward, he crouched down to study the ground and felt a bit of triumph. Finally, here was sign that hadn't mysteriously disappeared.

Lonnie followed the trail down the hill until he was back at the ravine again. Climbing down the ledge, he carefully checked the area and shook his head. From what he could see, she had to have landed in the ravine and yet the ground looked undisturbed. What the hell? Lonnie sat back on his heels and scratched his head. Standing up, he walked towards the low hill where James claimed to have seen the hikers. Once he rounded the base of the hill, Lonnie found more tracks. From the looks of it, James had been right. There were two, one larger than the other. As with MacKenzie, all sign disappeared further up the ravine. Frustrated, Lonnie walked back to where MacKenzie should have been. James was another fifty yards beyond. Judging from his posture, he was still fuming.

Shaking his head, Lonnie went back to studying the area. As angry as James was, it was likely he was missing something. It was impossible that there could be absolutely no sign. Even if they hadn't hit her, there was no way she could have tumbled down that hillside without sustaining some sort of damage. Starting where he assumed she should have landed, Lonnie worked his way back towards the ledge. It was there he finally had success. A quick call had James jogging back in a hurry and Lonnie pointed at a small stained area of the ledge, "Looks like blood." He glanced over at James, "Not enough for a gunshot wound. We must have missed."

"I guess," James stared at the stain and then glanced at the ground, "But that still has to be a pretty good gash. There's got to be a blood trail." He looked up and down the ravine and then pointed, "They must have gone that way. Otherwise, we probably would have seen them crossing that open area where the ravine flattens out. Let's go." They moved slowly along the ravine, by mutual agreement paying more attention to the harder, rockier ground. It was James who found the first spot of blood. He grinned at Lonnie, "See? We're finally on to them. The blood hasn't dried completely, they can't be that far in front of us. What?"

Lonnie was frowning as he looked ahead, "They're headed for the Sutherland Reservoir." He glanced at James, "They make it there and we might as well run for Mexico now."

"So we don't let them get there," James growled as he started to jog along the ravine. Lonnie followed along. Fortunately, they could make good time in this stretch. There was really no other way for their quarry to go. Once they reached open ground further south, that would change. Lonnie could only hope that they'd catch up before that happened.

As the ground began to flatten, James pushed even harder, unslinging his rifle as he went. Lonnie followed suit. If he remembered correctly, they should be coming out at the head of wide, fairly flat valley. It would the first place since they came off the hilltop where they would be able to see for more than a hundred yards. If MacKenzie and those hikers were there, they'd be easy to spot. James reached the valley first and stopped dead, "What the hell?"

Lonnie slowly came up beside him, staring down into the valley. There was a dust storm going on out there, except that there wasn't even a breeze where they were standing. Lonnie swallowed heavily. Weird things had been happening ever since Bander had tapped him to drive from the warehouse but somehow, this was freaking him out more than anything else he'd experienced. "Man," he breathed, "I am outta here."

James grabbed at him as he started to turn, "No way, you're not leaving me to clean up this mess."

"Are you crazy? Look out there! I'm not going out in that. It's not natural," Lonnie yanked his arm away.

"Oh, for - man up, dammit," James snapped. "So the wind's blowing some dirt around. Big freakin' deal. You know what this means? This means that bitch is close. We can end this, right here, right now."

"How? They could be anywhere. You're only guessing that they're close and now we don't have a trail to follow. What do we do if they run into a park ranger or some fisherman? Kill them too?" Lonnie took a deep breath, "Look, I've been thinking about this. The only one who can identify us is the woman and the only time she really saw us was when she was high on that peyote crap. You think a lawyer couldn't take her apart? We can walk away from this. Let's just get out of here."

James stood there with his head down long enough to give Lonnie some hope that they could stop this. Then he looked up and said the one word that shattered it, "Bander."

Lonnie turned away, swearing quietly. He'd forgotten about that crazy old man - that crazy, rich, powerful, old man. They were looking at death from the government when they were caught after killing MacKenzie and those hikers or death from Bander if they didn't. At the moment, Bander was more of a threat. He knew who they were and he knew how to find them. It wasn't much of a choice. Lonnie turned back, his expression hard, "Okay, how are we going to find them?"

James nodded once and then turned back to look into the valley. The dust storm was still swirling. "If you were being chased and got to this valley, what would you do?"

"Get through as fast as I could," Lonnie started and then looked towards the southern side, "and stay close to cover."

"RIght." James hefted his rifle. "And how long have we been chasing her?"

"Forever," Lonnie returned sourly.

"Seriously, man," James rolled his eyes. "Since late last night, right? She never touched that sandwich you gave her and JohnnyD grabbed her yesterday morning. She hasn't eaten in a day and half, at least, and she's been on the move almost constantly since early this morning. How fast you do think they're really moving?" He looked towards the tree line on the south side, "I'll bet they're laying low, hoping we give up."

"Yeah," Lonnie nodded in agreement. James was always the smart one, always the one figuring out the angles. They made a good team. He started forward, "Let's finish this."

- - - - -

Tuesday,

South of Palomar Mountain

1530 Local

Charlie grimaced as he finally put the phone back to his ear. His brother had sounded beyond furious, "Don?... Don!... We found her!... We found Mac." Charlie was silent for a long moment, "Well, I would have but I couldn't get a signal until now." He glanced over at Harm, "Umm, we're fine for now... Don... Don, c'mon... oh, all right." Charlie got up in a slight crouch and quietly made his way over to Harm, extending the phone, "He wants to talk to you."

Harm took a breath as he accepted the phone, glancing down at Mac. Her eyes were closed and he hoped she was actually sleeping a little. "Rabb here," he spoke softly, mindful that they were still being hunted. He listened for a few moments, "Can we deal with that later?" He frowned, his voice growing colder, "Eppes, give it a rest and listen to me. When we found Mac, she'd escaped and was being chased by two men. They were trying to kill her. They're still after her - and us, so a little help would be appreciated... yeah." Harm looked over at Charlie who was unabashedly listening, "Where are we?"

Charlie hurriedly pulled out his GPS unit and activated it, "We're on the east side of Sutherland Reservoir, south of Palomar Mountain."

Harm repeated what Charlie had said. He listened again, "Well, we can't stay here. We'll keep heading west as much as we can... okay... of course I will... right... bye." He ended the call and handed the phone back to Charlie, "He's alerting the San Diego office to see about getting someone out to us."

Charlie nodded slowly, "He was still pretty mad, wasn't he?"

"More with me than you," Harm shrugged in apparent unconcern, "We'll discuss it once we're back in LA." 'Discuss' probably wasn't the correct term for what Don had in mind but he figured Charlie probably didn't need any more stress. Apparently Don knew his brother well enough to realize how he'd probably wound up with Harm out in the middle of nowhere. Harm shifted slightly and winced a little. In the emotional and adrenalin turmoil of finding Mac and evading those two gunmen, he'd managed to ignore the pain in his shoulder. Now that they'd had a moment to breathe, his body had decided to let him know that he'd been pushing the limits.

"Are you okay?"

Harm schooled his features to a more neutral expression. Charlie didn't miss much, even when he was scared out of his mind. "I'm fine, it's just a twinge." He nodded towards the edge of trees, "Maybe you should check and see if the dust storm has died down yet."

"MAC!"

Mac jerked up at the sound of Kate's voice yelling in her ear. Bracing on an elbow, she dropped her head into her hand, "Good god, Kate, quit yelling." She could feel Harm's hand frozen on her back. It was a safe bet Charlie was looking equally surprised.

"Mac! They've stopped trying to follow the trail. They searching this side of the valley. You don't have much time." Kate moderated the volume but not the tone of her voice.

"Mac?" Harm asked cautiously, "What's wrong?" He put a steadying hand on her shoulder as Mac pushed herself into a sitting position, "Whoa, easy there. What's going on?" He lowered his voice slightly, carefully not looking at Charlie, "Kate's here?"

Mac shot him a grateful look as she nodded. A moment later, she was squeezing her eyes shut as a spate of dizziness hit. She forced herself to speak while hoping that the powerbar and Gatorade wouldn't be making a reappearance, "They're searching this side of the valley. If we stay here, they'll find us."

"Then we need to move," Harm gestured towards Charlie who was staring at the two of them in open-mouthed disbelief. "Get your stuff together."

"But," Charlie shook his head and turned to pick up his backpack. However bizarre the reasoning, the idea was sound. They needed to get further away.

"Harm, I can't," Mac's voice was quietly fatalistic. That little bit of sleep had been enough to trigger a desperate need for more. Her body had finally had enough.

"Sure you can. Come on, Mac, don't make me trot out that argument about women in combat," Harm tried to keep it light while eyeing her worriedly. He knew her far better now than he had during that nightmare with the poachers. She wasn't kidding.

"You two need to get out of here. You can get away if I'm not there to slow you down," Mac knew Harm wouldn't willingly leave her but Charlie was his responsibility, too.

"No. We'll just have to figure something else out," Harm had that look that he sometimes got when he was about to propose something harebrained and brilliant.

- - - - -


	34. Chapter 34

Remember that light at the end of the tunnel that I mentioned last time? Turns out it was the headlamp of an oncoming train. Work is busier than ever and now I'm on mandatory 10 hour days and - after I post this chapter - I'll be going back to the work I brought home this weekend.

On the plus side, in the last two weeks, the local and regional qualifiers for the National championships were held. Despite only managing two practices, I won the local (not really hard - there aren't any women in my division at my level) and yesterday morning, placed second in the larger regional tournament. I'm now qualified to fence all the events for my weapon at the Nationals.

As always, thanks for reading (and reviewing). Hope you enjoy this latest chapter.

Chapter 34

Tuesday

South of Palomar Mt.

1540 Local

"What are you thinking?" Mac wasn't sure she wanted to hear this. Harm had a tendency to conceive plans that put his own life in danger in order to protect others. While that might be considered the pot calling the kettle black, she liked to think that her plans were usually based on current facts. It was a fact right now that she wasn't capable of another vigorous trek. There was also Charlie to consider. She wasn't all that clear on how he'd managed to be here with Harm but she did realize that they needed to keep him safe.

Harm unzipped the duffle and pulled out the case containing his service weapon, "I've got this so we're not completely unarmed."

"And they've got rifles," Mac had slumped down enough to rest her head in her hand. She gave Harm a sideways look, "We're outgunned - you and Charlie really need to get out of here now."

Harm met her look with a lopsided grin, "But we've got them outnumbered. I say we surround them and force a surrender."

"With one pistol and what? A scary look? Harm, please, just go." Did she really need to spell it out for him? Cresswell would hang him from the highest yardarm if anything happened to Charlie. Hell, Cresswell might do it anyway, just because Charlie was here.

Harm bent forward a bit so that he was eye-level with her, "Actually, scary was exactly what I had in mind. Do you think Kate and Avis would help?"

"What?" Both Mac and Charlie spoke at the same time.

"I'm in," Kate announced. It sounded like she was standing next to Harm.

"I appreciate that but you can't stop bullets," Mac felt compelled to point that out to both Kate and Harm.

"Are you talking to Kate? Did she agree? What about Avis?" Harm leaned in, his expression more intense. "If they're in, we need to plan."

"Commander! Harm - what are you doing? You can't be serious," Charlie was wide-eyed in consternation. What the hell was wrong with these two? If he didn't know better, he'd swear Mac's condition was catching. Maybe the stress of this past week was finally affecting Rabb, He blinked a little when both Harm and Mac turned to look at him.

"Charlie," Mac's voice was sympathetic, "It'll be okay."

"No, it won't," Charlie waved his hands, "Are you listening to yourselves? Two guys with rifles are hunting us and your solution is a pair of ghosts?! There's no such thing!" He stopped, looking down for a moment while he took a deep breath. After a moment, Charlie continued in a calmer tone, "Look, Harm, we don't really know for sure if those men are coming this way. You're basing our plan of action on what a supposed spirit said? No offense, Mac, but you've been through a lot. Delusions can't be unexpected and I do think it makes sense to get out of here. The closer we get to the Sutherland Reservoir, the more likely it'll be that we'll find help and the easier it will be for the San Diego agents to find us."

"Delusion? I should have dumped that water pitcher on his head instead of his foot," Kate growled.

Mac couldn't help smiling as she glanced in Kate's direction, "Maybe you should have."

"Should have what?" Harm asked. He couldn't blame Charlie for his skepticism but the evidence was there if you were willing to look.

Mac looked at Charlie as she answered, "Kate's annoyed. Said she should dumped the water pitcher on Charlie's head instead of his foot."

Charlie felt his mouth drop open and abruptly shut it. "Harm told you," he offered weakly. How else could Mac have heard about that?

"Nope." Harm shook his head, trying not to grin at the flummoxed look on Charlie's face. He almost felt sorry for the young man. He'd already had a preview of Charlie's reaction to suggestions of the supernatural when they'd talked to Megan. The professor was clearly a man of science and he was being told to set aside his beliefs. It was a lot to ask considering their current circumstances. Speaking of which, they really didn't have time for a prolonged debate. Harm's expression grew more serious and he half-watched Mac while addressing the air in front of him, "Kate? Avis? Do we have a current location on those men?"

"They're at the head of the valley near the tree line," Avis responded. "They've split up." Mac dutifully repeated it for Harm.

Harm nodded once, "Okay, here's what we're going to do... "

- - - - -

Lonnie eased his way through the trees, trying to make his way as silently as possible. James was closer to the edge of the tree line so he could also keep an eye on the valley should their quarry decide to make a run for it. It was slower going where Lonnie was and James was steadily increasing his lead. At first they'd stayed within sight of each other but now Lonnie was just getting glimpses here and there of his partner. It didn't bother him that much. He wasn't worried about being outnumbered two to one by the hikers - he had his rifle as an equalizer and James was still within earshot. What did worry him was running across a park ranger or other hikers. There was also that niggling, irritating thread of fear that was resisting his attempts to banish. The MacKenzie woman - and all the weird things that happened around her - scared him. If Bander hadn't scared him more, he probably would have bolted last night. Lonnie tightened his grip on the rifle as he peered into another thicket and then scanned the ground for any sign. Having reconciled himself to murder, Lonnie had finally decided he would try and kill the woman at his first opportunity. Perhaps when her spirit departed, it would take the others along with it.

Ten minutes later, Lonnie froze in mid-step. Crouching quickly, he carefully examined the ground in front of him and then smiled. Finally, a partial footprint that had been left recently. Stepping to the side, he continued to search and found yet another print. Whoever had left the tracks had been careful but not careful enough. They were following a small game trail. Still crouching, Lonnie stared ahead in the direction the tracks led. He couldn't see anyone yet but they couldn't be very far away. As quietly as possible, he chambered a round. It was possible this was an ambush. Even though his prey was unarmed, rocks could do damage if he let his guard down. Lonnie crept down the trail, all senses on alert.

From his position behind a large tree, Harm watched as the man slowly worked his way closer. He'd lain the trail earlier, walking backwards until he'd found a rocky patch where he could break away and find a suitable hiding place. According to Mac, Kate was with him. Despite the aplomb he'd shown with Charlie, Harm felt a bit foolish discussing his plan with thin air. What he was going to do didn't necessarily need Kate's participation but if she did join in, it would give him a broader safety margin. What had a knot in his gut was the time factor. Mac and Charlie were vulnerable right now. He needed to neutralize this opponent quickly and get back before the other man found them. Harm had tried to give Mac his pistol figuring he could make do with a couple of large rocks but she wouldn't take it, telling him she didn't trust herself mentally or physically with a loaded weapon.

As the man passed by him, Harm tightened his grip on the pistol. "Now," he whispered, as he eased around the far side of the trunk. The man was just entering a small thicket of briars. It wasn't dense enough to appear threatening but the bushes were close enough on either side to hamper a swinging rifle barrel. Harm was banking that when he surprised his quarry, the man would turn without thinking to lift his rifle first. That second or so delay should be enough to get the drop on him and hopefully he'd be smart enough to surrender rather than get shot. Harm had no idea what Kate, assuming she was there, had in mind. For that matter, he didn't know what she could do.

Harm gained the path, sinking down low to present as little target as possible. He just needed the man to keep his back turned for a few more seconds. Unfortunately, a squirrel chose that moment to abandon the tree he was in for another of equal safety. How a creature so small could make so much noise was beyond Harm. The damage was done. Harm found himself in the sights of a high-powered rifle. Granted, his pistol was trained on the man but it was clearly an unequal contest. The man obviously realized this. He smirked and gestured with the rifle, "Put it down."

Harm met his smirk with a grim smile of his own, "You first."

"I don't think so," the man raised the rifle slightly higher, his expression hardening.

Harm matched his movements, extending the pistol a little more. Inwardly, his mind was racing. It was a standoff for now and the outcome wasn't promising. They were close enough that he doubted either one of them would miss. Even if he managed to get the first shot off, odds were the rifle would go off as well. For Mac and Charlie's sakes, he couldn't afford to let that happen. The other shooter was still out there. Harm eyed the other man, "You know if you go through with this, Bander will leave you twisting in the wind when the Feds catch you." He felt hope flare when a split-second of panic raced across his adversary's face. That quickly died at the man's next words.

"They can't catch us if there isn't anyone to tell them who we are."

Harm tensed, knowing what was coming next. A moment later his eyes widened as he stared over the man's right shoulder.

Lonnie watched the tall man's eyes look past him in surprise and shook his head, "Pretty lame, dude. Forget it, I'm not falling for that old trick." A moment later, he stumbled forward as something hit him in the back of the head. Spinning around, Lonnie had a split second to register that no one was there when something grabbed the barrel of his rifle and yanked it upward. Swearing now, he tightened his hold and then he was staggering back and forth, the unseen force shaking him like a rag doll. Lonnie managed to keep his feet for a little bit and then lost his grip and his balance, landing on his hands and knees. He froze when a gun barrel pressed against the side of his head.

"Nice work, Kate. Thanks." Harm glanced up and around before returning his attention to the man in front of him. Despite the matter of fact tone, he was probably feeling as shaken as the man in front of him. His belief in the presence of both Kate and Avis had been more about his absolute trust in Mac. It had never truly banished the tiny little skeptic in the back of his mind that kept saying , 'Yeah, right.' After watching this demonstration, however, his skepticism had packed its bags and fled, leaving no forwarding address. Harm drew back a little, kicking the rifle back with him, "Lie flat with your hands behind your head and lace your fingers together." He tucked his pistol into his waistband and drew out the length of rope Charlie had given him. As Harm knelt down, he addressed the air in front of him, "Kate, if this guy tries anything, take him out." He smiled grimly as the man inhaled sharply and then froze. Quickly, Harm tied the man's hands behind his back.

Settling back on his heels, Harm contemplated his captive for a moment and then reached over yanked off the man's left boot. That elicited an indignant 'hey' that was promptly muffled. Standing up, Harm heaved the boot as far as he could into the woods. Picking up the rifle and slinging it over his shoulder, he drew the pistol once more and gestured, "Get up."

After a few moments struggle, the man stood sullenly in front of Harm, "What are you going to do with me?"

"Haven't decided yet. The woman you've been trying to kill is my fiancee." Harm felt a modicum of satisfaction as the man's face blanched. He shrugged, "I suppose I'll hand you over to the FBI if you behave yourself," Harm kept his expression cold, "If you don't, well... I understand accidents can happen out here." He stepped in a little closer, "Where's your partner?"

Lonnie shook his head and then shook it a little more frantically as the tall man's face darkened, "No, I mean, no, I don't know where he is right now. He was closer to the edge of the trees and moving faster. I lost track." He breathed a quiet sigh of relief when that seemed to satisfy his captor. Dammit, he should have listened to his instincts earlier and quit.

Harm felt his stomach knot and waved the pistol, "Move. Keep quiet." Son of a bitch! If what this guy was saying was true, the other shooter was closer to Mac and Charlie than he was. He waited until the man started walking before speaking sotto voce, "Kate? If you're still here, get back to Mac. Let her know I'm coming as fast as I can."

- - - - -

Charlie watched Harm disappear into the brush and heaved a sigh. This definitely qualified as the most nerve-wracking game of hide and seek he'd ever played. They'd moved further into the underbrush, trying to stay out of sight. Charlie glanced over at Mac as she sat with her back against a tree and frowned a little. She was staring off into space, the look on her face disturbingly unsettled. He shifted a bit closer. "Mac?" he whispered. When she didn't respond, he touched her shoulder, jerking it back in surprise when she jumped.

"Easy, it's just me," Charlie leaned back with both hands raised. She'd looked like she was prepared to seriously hurt him. "Are you okay?"

Mac slowly relaxed, her face flushing slightly, "Sorry, you startled me."

"S'Okay," Charlie assured her. He ducked his head, still watching her from under his eyebrows, "Wanna talk about it?" She glanced away, looking uncomfortable and he waved a hand, "I'm sorry, never mind."

Mac looked back at him, hearing the slightest vestige of hurt in his voice, and exhaled softly. He was only concerned about her. Hell, he was literally risking his life for her. She swallowed once, firming her resolve. Although the memory still plagued her on occasion, it had faded over the years - until these circumstances had brought it roaring back. She shifted a little, "Deja vu - bad memories. Years ago, Harm and I were being chased by these psycho poachers. I was hurt and Harm had me hide while he tried to draw them off. It almost worked."

"Almost?" Charlie was torn between being sorry he'd asked and natural curiosity.

Mac stared down at her hands, "One of them found me, thought he'd... um... have some fun. He had a knife he was going to use to make sure I cooperated. I killed him with it." Her voice was nearly inaudible at the end.

"Oh god, Mac, I'm so sorry." Charlie was wide-eyed in both surprise and chagrin. He hadn't considered - hadn't let himself consider that aspect and obviously he should have. He couldn't imagine what it must have been like to be forced into that sort of situation. His thoughts went to Amita and how he'd have felt if someone had tried to... Charlie gave himself a shake and then gave Mac a fierce look, "That's not going to happen here. I promise."

"I promise, too." Avis sounded as fierce as Charlie.

"Thank you," Mac answered them both and smiled briefly at the young man. It was sweet of him to say that but it was just one more worry for her to carry. She'd never forgive herself if something happened to him. They both fell silent after that. Mac let her eyes drift shut, exhaustion sweeping over her again. Charlie drew his knees up, folding his arms and resting his chin. He could feel the tension in his shoulders and neck and focused on his breathing, trying to relieve the stress. It wasn't easy. His mind kept jumping from one scenario to another, calculating odds, considering options. All of it came back to Harm returning as quickly as possible before the other man found them. Charlie had no illusions about himself. He was no hero.

"Sarah!" Ten minutes later, Avis' urgent voice cut through the silence. Mac's eyes flew open and she shot out a hand to grip Charlie's shoulder. Charlie's head came up with a jerk and the two froze, listening intently. The insects and birds had ceased their noise and Mac tightened her hold on Charlie. This wasn't good. There came a soft crackle of underbrush and then silence again.

Charlie started to turn his head towards Mac when a man stepped out of the bushes in front of them. His rifle casually tracked towards them as he grinned, "Lady, you've been a real pain in the ass."

Mac glared at him, not saying a word. The air in the clearing was becoming oppressive - at least to her. She couldn't tell if Charlie or their adversary felt it, too.

"You don't want to do this," Charlie finally said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. The air seemed heavier, no doubt a symptom of his rising fear.

"No choice," the man's expression darkened. "I'm not going to prison." His eyes darted around the clearing, "Where's the other guy?" James knew the other hiker wasn't around. He'd been careful to scout the area before revealing himself. It was one of the reasons he hadn't shot these two from cover as soon as he discovered them.

"On his way to meet the cops," Charlie tried to add a touch of bravado to his voice. He knew all about game theory but trying to implement it in such an uncontrolled environment wasn't going to be easy. "They're probably on their way back by now. It would be better for you to give up." Charlie jerked a thumb at Mac, "She's a Marine officer. If anything happens to her, they'll call you a terrorist and ship you off to Gitmo without bothering about a trial. How do you think those Marine guards are gonna feel about you?"

James looked uncertain for a moment and then he firmed his grip on the rifle, pointing it directly at Charlie, "Or I shoot you, hide the bodies and nobody can prove anything." He smirked a little, "Nice try, but I think I like my version better."

"Put the rifle down."

Charlie glanced over at Mac in surprise. The undeniable tone of command was at complete odds with her bedraggled appearance. She wasn't pleading, she was ordering.

James shifted his attention and his aim over to Mac, "We just had that conversation, lady. Weren't you listening?" Despite the sarcastic and condescending tone he was using, James found the woman to be more than a little unnerving. God knew she had Lonnie spooked. This had to end. He threw his rifle up to his shoulder, sighting in on Mac's forehead, "Say goodbye." As soon as he uttered those words, the wind gusted nosily, rattling the trees around them. James flinched in surprise, glancing upwards for a split second.

"Don't make a decision you'll regret." Mac's voice was deadly calm. Charlie stared at her. She seemed almost detached from what was about to happen. Shock, perhaps? She was shutting down emotionally? God knew everybody reacted differently to extreme stress and the Colonel had been under the gun, so to speak, for over a day and a half. Maybe this wasn't so surprising. It was really amazing how adaptable the human mind could be. That could be an interesting avenue to explore. Could he quantify the visceral responses of the brain to outside stimuli? Charlie was jerked back to the here and now at the sudden movement of the gunman.

"Shut up!" James backed up a step, darting looks around the clearing. The hair on his arms and the back of his neck was standing straight up and there was a growing buzzing noise in his head.

"You still have a choice." Mac continued relentlessly. It wasn't hard to maintain the calm demeanor. She was physically and emotionally spent. All she had left was her voice and her not inconsiderable powers of persuasion. Hopefully, it would be enough. Thank god she wasn't trying to convey anything complex. Her goal was simple: don't shoot. Mac had always contended that she could make a decent legal argument practically in her sleep. After all, she'd spent the greater part of her adult life convincing strangers to listen to her point of view. Now, with the fog she was in, she'd get to prove it. Mac knew she wasn't quite at Harm's level, (that man could not only convince a jury that pigs fly, but that they ran their own airline and had great fare rates) but she was still pretty damn good. What she was also good at was reading people and this guy, for all his threats and arrogance, was seriously rattled.

Avis was doing her part. The wind increasing in its intensity. It was growing darker as well and she could feel Avis' presence becoming stronger and more distinct. What that meant, she could only guess. Not once since this ordeal began had she actually seen what Avis and Kate were physically capable of doing. She'd either been unconscious or completely out of touch with reality whenever they'd acted. All she could do was look at the evidence. It was compelling enough for her. There was no way on God's green earth that she could have escaped from that house on her own. So unless these guys had literally picked her up and threw her outside for the fun of hunting her later, Avis and Kate were definitely formidable allies.

Charlie hunched his shoulders as leaves whipped past him. It must have been getting cloudy as well because the clearing was growing darker. He was afraid to take his eyes off the gunman to look. If the guy started shooting, he didn't want to be caught unaware. What the hell he could do about it, he didn't know, but it was a surprise he could do without.

"They want you."

James' eyes widened as his head whipped back and forth, "Who said that?!"

"You can stop them," Mac followed up on what Avis had said. It sounded familiar somehow. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked past him. The shadows were growing deeper? How was that possible? She shivered slightly in spite of herself.

"What?" James watched the woman stare past him and shiver. He whirled around, the skin on the back of his neck crawling as he stared into the trees. She had the sight - that was what Bander said. What was she seeing?

"Johnny chose the wrong path. They came for him."

James let go of the rifle with one hand to hold it over his ear as he hunched his shoulders, "SHUT UP!" The damn voice was inside in his head. He glared at Mac, "Make it stop!"

Mac slowly shook her head, "I can't. It's up to you." She had no idea who Johnny was but it was obvious that Avis hadn't lost a step in her ability to scare the bejeebers out of people. The rifle was no longer pointed directly at either her or Charlie. The man almost seemed to forget he had it as his fear intensified. Avis' presence was intensifying, too. Mac squinted a little, was the air beginning to shimmer between her and the gunman?

Charlie kept his attention swiveling back and forth between Mac and the gunman, completely perplexed. What the hell was the Colonel doing and how was she doing it? The gunman was rapidly coming unglued. Charlie shivered. The wind was continuing unabated and there was a cold edge to it. The cloud cover must have really thickened as well because the clearing was downright dim. It was a perfect setting for ghosts. Charlie snorted inwardly. Where had that thought come from? There was no such thing.

"Boo."

Charlie jumped, earning both Mac and the gunman's attention. He immediately put his hands up, stuttering, "S-sorry, I - uh. Sorry." He resisted the urge to look all around the clearing. Who'd said that?

James pointed a trembling finger at young, dark-haired man, "You heard it, didn't you? You heard it, too! What did it say?"

Charlie hesitated, glancing at Mac, "I - umm... " Surprisingly, the Colonel looked exasperated more than anything else. Charlie hunched his shoulders a little, looking down, "It - uh, it said 'boo.'" He wondered briefly how one could feel both stupid and terrified with equal intensity. What if this guy thought he was making fun of him?

"Boo?" James mouthed slowly and then started to laugh. Boo? He laughed harder, shaking his head.

Charlie stared at the man in consternation, a reflexive smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Laughing hysterically beat shooting, even if it was somewhat unnerving.

Mac watched the gunman in growing alarm. If it were possible, she'd strangle Kate for this. The guy was teetering on the edge and now there was no telling what he might do next. He was nearly doubled over with the rifle across his knees. There was a distinct possibility he would stop laughing and start shooting.

"James."

James' head jerked up at the sound of his name. His eyes widened and he staggered back a step. Standing just in front of the MacKenzie woman was a glowing figure. The features were indistinct but it was definitely a woman in a long gown. It raised an arm and pointed past his right shoulder. "Look." Reluctantly, James glanced over his shoulder and blanched. It was impossible but the shadows under the trees were moving. As he watched, they began to flow together, becoming darker and larger. Slowly, the darkness began to creep forward, oozing along the ground like a malevolent black river. Trapped between the dark and the light, James stood frozen.

Mac stared at the blackness as well, growing paler. Somehow, somewhere, she'd seen that before and it scared the hell out of her. If she could have stood up, she'd be running right now.

"They think they've won." The figure thrust out a hand and the darkness stopped. "You must choose."

Shaking, James looked down at the rifle in his hands and then at the darkness. It seemed almost eager, writhing against some unseen barrier in an effort to reach him. Abruptly, he reversed his hold, grasping the barrel and thrusting the stock towards Mac, "Take it!"

Mac shook her head and glanced at Charlie, "You take it." She knew she wouldn't be able to support the weight. She could only assume there was a round chambered. It would be the height of irony if it slipped from her hands and went off when it hit the ground.

James immediately turned towards Charlie, "Please!" His voice was edged with hysteria.

His heart hammering, Charlie never took his eyes off the man as he reached forward and took the rifle. This was the weirdest thing he'd ever witnessed. A beam of sunlight had broken through the cloud cover, illuminating a spot right in front of Mac and making everything else seem that much darker. Somehow, it had been enough to push the guy over the edge. Charlie's admiration for Mac grew. Even in her condition, she'd used the power of suggestion with expert finesse, turning a would-be murderer into a nearly blubbering pile of mush. It was amazing.

As soon as he'd let go of the rifle, James heard an angry keening that abruptly stopped. Hesitantly glancing over his shoulder, his heart gave a startling thump. The darkness was gone. Feeling his knees go weak with relief, James sank down to the ground, dropping his face into his hands. "You're safe," the voice whispered in his head and then, it too was gone.

"Thank you," Mac looked up as sunlight once again filled the clearing. A loud crashing of underbrush had her and Charlie turning towards the sound. Charlie held the rifle awkwardly, obviously uncomfortable and unfamiliar with firearms. James didn't react at all, continuing to sit with his head in his hands. A few seconds later, Mac smiled in relief as Harm appeared in the clearing holding another man by the elbow. She raised a tired eyebrow, "Late again, Navy."

Harm arched a questioning eyebrow right back at her and received an almost imperceptible nod. Smiling then, he shrugged a shoulder, "Didn't want to ruin your fun."

Charlie looked between the JAG officers and rolled his eyes. He would never understand these two.


	35. Chapter 35

Finally, here is the next chapter. For those of you who have been waiting patiently, thank you. I appreciate your understanding. For those who haven't seemed so patient (and I realize the tone I'm reading might not be what you were attempting to convey), all I can say is - give me a break. I'm back on 10 hour days, which means - because I live in the country and have horses - my day starts at 3:30 am. I don't get home until 6 pm or later, it takes an hour or so to feed, water and clean the barn, so I often don't get dinner until 7:30 or 8. There are nights when I'm just too flippin' tired to write. I know this sounds whiny but I've got a case of the crankys right now. If I've offended anyone, I apologize. That was not my intent. I'll try to be in a better mood next time.

Chapter 35

Tuesday,

Grace Memorial Hospital

San Diego, CA

1845 Local

Charlie looked up at the sound of hurried footsteps and then climbed to his feet, feeling both relieved and somewhat worried. Don was striding down the corridor and Charlie wasn't sure if he was going to get a pat on the back or a slap upside his head. Probably both, he decided. He couldn't help shifting nervously from foot to foot as Don drew closer.

"Hey Don," Charlie ducked his head a bit as his brother stopped in front of him. When Don didn't say anything right away, Charlie's trepidation grew. After a couple of seconds, he straightened up. Dammit, he was an adult and he'd done what he thought was necessary. Not to be overly melodramatic, but if he hadn't, Harm and Mac might not have made it out of the Grande Mesa reservation alive. His eyes widened when Don suddenly smiled and thumped him on the shoulder.

"Nice job, bro. You okay?"

Startled, Charlie grinned slightly, "Yeah, sure. I -"

He stopped abruptly as Don leaned in, his expression intense, "Good, because if you ever do something like this again, I'll come down on you like a ton of bricks." He paused for a moment for emphasis, "And then I'll tell Dad."

Relieved to find that Don wasn't completely serious, Charlie raised his hands in mock surrender, "I promise - never again."

Don nodded in satisfaction, "Okay."

Charlie continued on, a mischievous glint in his eye, "The next time a visiting JAG Marine officer is kidnapped and held on an Indian reservation and her Navy Commander fiance wants to charge off on his white horse to rescue her, I will walk the other way."

"Charlie - "

Charlie raised his hands again, "Hey, I promised. What else do you want?"

Don rolled his eyes, "Fine." He should have known better, "So how are the Dynamic Duo?" He hadn't had much time to catch up with his San Diego colleagues. They'd given him the pertinent facts: The JAG officers and Charlie safely recovered, two bad guys in custody. They'd used a chopper to extract the three, leaving a couple of agents to escort their two prisoners. Aside from letting him know what hospital they were taking everyone to, Don hadn't had much more contact. Truthfully, he hadn't wanted more until he'd seen everybody for himself. He would touch base with them again after he met up with Charlie, Harm and Mac.

Charlie lifted his shoulders and let them fall, "Okay - or, well, they will be. I know Harm's shoulder's bothering him but the only thing he'll admit to is being tired. Megan was right, Mac's got a concussion. She's dehydrated, too - they've got her on an IV for now. She was sleeping last time I looked. Harm's sitting with her. I didn't want to intrude."

Don nodded, "What room are they in?" He needed to see with his own eyes.

"533. You're not going to interview them now, are you?" Charlie eyed his brother anxiously. He assumed Don was still angry at Harm. Charlie had already talked to SA Ruiz, giving his version of events and convincing the agent to hold off talking to the JAG officers until morning. In that, he'd had some assistance from Dr. Gates, the attending physician. The good doctor, exuding a haughty annoyance, had pointed out that awake, conscious patients gave better interviews.

Don arched an eyebrow, "Not yet, but I do have a few things to say to Rabb."

Charlie took a deep breath. It was time to 'fess up. "My going wasn't his fault. I - um - threatened to rat him out to you if he didn't take me along." At Don's expression, he hurried on, "Look, I knew he couldn't handle it by himself and I knew Mac was out there. I couldn't just let him go alone."

"I'd already figured that part out," Don retorted dryly. "It doesn't excuse him. He should have backed off."

Charlie stared at his brother in disbelief and then scowled, his temper beginning to fray, "If he had, Mac would be dead right now. Those two guys were trying to kill her, not catch her."

"Take it easy," Don raised a hand, a little surprised at Charlie's vehemence. He frowned a moment later, "'Catch her'? Are you saying she got away from them on her own? I thought she had a concussion. It wasn't you and Rabb?" A large part of his fear for his brother had been his belief that Rabb wouldn't wait for help but would charge in with guns blazing to rescue Mac.

"No, it wasn't," Charlie scrubbed a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling exhausted. There were things he'd glossed over with Ruiz that Don would pick up on immediately. He waved a hand at the waiting room chairs, "Can we sit? I'm beat."

"Yeah, sure," Don felt a pang of guilt. Charlie did look pretty tired. The two made their way to a set of chairs and sat down. Don leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "Tell me the whole story, Charlie."

Tuesday,

Grace Memorial Hospital

San Diego, CA

2030 Local

Harm tensed as he turned his head towards the soft tapping on the door, then smiled as first his mother and then Frank quietly entered the room. For a moment, he'd thought Don Eppes had decided to do an encore. All things considered, the agent had been remarkably civil. Harm figured the other shoe would drop some time tomorrow, after Don had had a night to sleep on it. He stood up and walked over, exchanging hugs with each of his parents.

Trish kept a hand on Harm's arm as she looked towards the bed. "How is she?" Worry laced her soft whisper.

"A concussion but the docs say she's going to be fine," Harm whispered back. He nodded towards the hallway, "Let's step outside."

Trish took a closer look at her son as they moved out into the corridor. He seemed exhausted but content. She folded her arms, regarding him sternly, "Why didn't you call us earlier?"

"Mom - ," Harm glanced at Frank for support.

"I'm sure Harm didn't want to worry us when we couldn't do anything about it," Frank dutifully assisted his stepson. He then gave Harm his own stern look, "What happened exactly?"

Harm let his gaze drop away, raking a hand through his hair. Mac wouldn't appreciate him saying anything about Avis or Kate. "It's related to our investigation. I really can't say a whole lot."

"Harmon Rabb, what happened to Sarah?" Trish wasn't about to be deterred.

He knew that tone. His mother wasn't going to let up until she had a satisfactory answer, rules and regs be damned. Harm glanced up and down the hallway and lowered his voice, "Mac and Agent Reeves were escorting a suspect to the LA Bureau's home office. We thought he could give us a lead on another part of our investigation in exchange for protection. They were ambushed and abducted on their way back."

"Oh no," Trish covered her mouth with one hand while the other found its way into Frank's grip.

Frank frowned at his stepson, "I would assume your suspect was the target. Why take Sarah and the agent?"

"To find out if our suspect had already talked," Harm shifted a little. "The long and short of it is, the mastermind in all this became interested in Mac and separated her from the others, taking her to a house in an isolated area. Charlie Eppes figured out where she might be and we went there to see if he was right. He was, although we never made it to the house. Mac had escaped and was being chased by her two guards. We found her first, captured the two thugs, contacted the San Diego FBI and here we are." Harm spread his hands, feeling slightly smug. He'd managed to give them the gist of the story without revealing anything about the case, scaring his mother about the danger they'd been in or mentioning the more unbelievable aspects of their adventure. Mac would be pleased.

The smug feeling slipped a bit at the horrified look on his mother's face, "Mom?"

Trish tightened her grip on Frank's hand, "'Interested?' Oh dear god, Harm, he didn't - Sarah wasn't - "

Harm's eyes widened in alarm, "What? No! That wasn't - " He stopped in frustration. What to say? Harm glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck. Neither his mother nor Frank were stupid and his mom had a BS meter that he'd helped her perfect over the years. Outright lying was not an option.

"Harm," Trish prompted, worry shredding any patience she might have had. What could be worse than her original fear?

Harm lifted his eyes skyward for a moment, hoping Mac wouldn't kill him for what he was about to do. He looked at his parents, "You know how Mac always knows what time it is?"

Trish and Frank exchanged a puzzled look before nodding. Trish frowned, "Of course, but what does that have to do with anything?"

Harm glanced away, "According to some experts, being able to tell time like that is linked to psychic ability." He bit back a sigh as his parents looked even more bewildered. "They're right. Mac does have psychic ability. She sees things. The guy who ordered the kidnapping figured that out and we think he wanted to somehow force her to use that ability for him."

"Excuse me?"

Harm flinched. His mother was staring at him like he'd grown a second head. "I'm not kidding. This guy seriously thought Mac would help him somehow."

Trish glanced at Frank and then folded her arms, "And you believe Sarah is a psychic, too?

Resisting the effort to backtrack in the face of his mom's skepticism, Harm folded his arms as well, "Yes. It's not something she can turn off and on but she does have the ability." He tilted his head to the side and grinned dryly, "And before you ask, Mac has a hard time believing as well."

Mother and son continued to stare at each other until Frank cleared his throat, "Would it be all right if we sat with her?"

Harm relaxed as he looked over at his stepfather, "Sure." He checked his watch, "Visiting hours don't end for another hour or so." He didn't mention that he was planning on spending the night by Mac's side. The Feds here hadn't seen fit to provide any sort of security and Bander was still out there. Harm wasn't going to let Mac out of his sight.

Trish glanced at Harm as he ushered them back into Mac's room, "You're going to spend the night here, aren't you? You know you need to rest, too."

"I'll be fine, Mom," Harm reassured her while shaking his head. She knew him too well. His gaze traveled towards Mac's bed and he froze in mid-step. Kate Todd was standing in shadows, smiling at him.

"Harm?" Frank eyed his stepson in concern. "Are you okay?"

"What? Sure - yeah, I'm good," Harm blinked and when he looked that way again, Kate was gone.

Tuesday,

Bander Residence

Los Angeles, CA

2215 Local

"Not a word! Do you hear me! They don't say a word to anyone but you!" Bander slammed the phone down and then ran his hands over his head. Muttering a string of expletives, he shoved himself to his feet. As impossible as it seemed, MacKenzie had been rescued and Lonnie and James were in the custody of the FBI. How the hell had that happened? He began to pace, hands clasped tightly behind his back. This had been a day of setbacks and outright disasters and he needed a clear head if he was going to survive.

The Navy cops, what the hell were they called? N-I, NCSI? No, NCIS, that was it - they had been aboard the Nimitz waiting for his people. Nearly the same thing had happened in LA. The FBI and LAPD had been waiting for Husam's group. Bander exhaled heavily, trying to rein in his temper. Somehow, the Feds had gotten ahead of him and he'd never realized it. How had they figured it out? He wanted to blame MacKenzie but he'd had her when most of this had happened. Bander's expression grew darker. He could and would blame her for lying to him. Maybe she hadn't been affected by the peyote and had faked her whole reaction, knowing it would lead him to failure. He'd pay her back for that.

That still left the Feds and how they'd figured everything out. Bander went back to his desk and sank down into the chair. Things had been going wrong ever since Husam had killed the roommate. Bander frowned. He needed to amend that thought - things had started going wrong when the LA FBI and JAG had gotten involved. He fished a key out of his coat pocket and unlocked one of the desk drawers, pulling out the files Margery had compiled. Flipping through the pages, he stopped suddenly. There it was. It had to be him. He was the only anomaly among the law enforcement personnel. Dr. Charles Eppes, mathematics genius, consultant and brother of lead FBI agent Don Eppes. He'd been with MacKenzie and the other agent at UCLA and he'd been at the scene where JohnnyD had grabbed McKlellan, MacKenzie and Reeves. Somehow, he must have been able to put the pieces together. Dammit, maybe if Naser's half-assed attempt on Eppes had succeeded, things would have turned out differently.

Bander drummed his fingers on the desk, silently fuming. Years of his life had been wasted. Husam's entire team was either dead or incarcerated and they hadn't managed to accomplish either of his goals. How soon before the FBI showed up for him? Bander shook his head as he stood up again and moved to the window. Husam was the only one who could identify him and he'd been well paid not to utter a word. Aside from learning that they'd failed, Bander didn't know much more. As terrorists, getting Husam and the others a lawyer would be tricky. With Homeland Security involved, it was possible the whole group would wind up in Gitmo without any sort of legal counsel. That didn't bother Bander nearly as much as the fact he might never get all the details of what had happened. Meanwhile, the lawyer he'd sent down to San Diego for Lonnie and James had been instructed to offer a generous carrot and lethal stick in return for their silence. He was confident that they'd keep quiet. That left MacKenzie.

He wanted her dead, wanted Eppes dead, too, but if he'd learned nothing over these past few days, it was not to rush. The first thing to do would be to talk to Evan Swift. Swift had been his personal attorney for years and the man's formidable legal knowledge was only exceeded by his cutthroat courtroom demeanor. The FBI couldn't have that solid case against him or he'd be in custody by now. If it was only circumstantial, Swift would take it apart. He'd take MacKenzie apart too if it came to that. Her head injury would probably be enough to throw any of her testimony into question.

Bander straightened up, feeling somewhat better than he had earlier. It always paid to think things through. Retribution needn't be hurried. Being cleared of any charges the FBI could come up with would be a suitable revenge of sorts. It would gall Don Eppes to watch him walk, both knowing what he'd gotten away with. Later, when Charles Eppes met an unfortunate demise somewhere down the road, Don Eppes wouldn't be able to do anything about that either. MacKenzie was another story. She'd betrayed their people and earned her death. He'd prefer that she suffered but a sniper's bullet would probably be best. Fast and unexpected would hopefully negate her 'protection'. He would be patient about that as well. Let them think they'd won. Bander picked up the phone.

Wednesday,

Grace Memorial Hospital

San Diego, CA

0620 Local

Mac opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times. Slowly and carefully she stretched, grimacing a bit as sore muscles protested. All in all, this was the best she'd felt in days. The pounding in her head was a faint echo of what it had been and the exhausted feeling was gone. Now if she could get hold of some food - her stomach grumbled in agreement and she heard a low chuckle. Mac turned her head and smiled. Harm was sprawled in a chair next to the bed, watching her in fond amusement. He tilted his head with a grin, "Hungry, Marine? I heard that from over here."

Mac stretched out a hand and he grasped it, intertwining their fingers. She gave a light tug and he willingly transferred himself to the side of her bed. Mac looked him up and down, taking in the slight growth of beard and shadows under his eyes, "Are you okay?" Her voice sounded rougher than she thought it would.

"Am now," Harm reached for the water pitcher and poured a small amount into the glass. Leaving it on the nightstand, he picked up the remote and raised the bed up. Once that was accomplished, he handed her the glass with a small flourish, "Here."

Dutifully taking a few swallows, Mac raised an eyebrow, "How bad is your shoulder feeling?" He'd done everything one-handed. Granted, his other hand was still firmly gripping hers but she had the distinct impression he wouldn't have used it anyway.

"It's fine," Harm answered dismissively, "And I'm not the one in a hospital bed. Aside from hungry, how are you feeling?"

"Good enough to get out of here," Mac rolled her eyes at the look on his face. "Seriously, it's a tiny, little headache and a few minor aches here and there. I've felt worse after my PT quals." She directed a small glare in his direction, "And don't think you've managed to redirect my attention. How bad is your shoulder?"

Harm glanced down at their hands, resisting the urge to sigh heavily. As much as he wanted Mac healthy and whole, she'd been a lot easier to maneuver around when she was still fuzzy from the concussion. "It hurts a little." He changed gears and raised an inviting eyebrow, "Wanna kiss it and make it better?"

Mac grinned right back, "Depends, do I have to stop there?"

He folded his arm up so their hands were braced against his chest and leaned towards her, "I've always heard it's best to be thorough." He paused mere inches away.

"And we want the best," Mac murmured as she closed the distance between them. God help her, she'd missed him so badly. Gradually, she became aware he was trembling and pulled back in concern, "Harm?" He'd tucked his chin down to his chest as she pulled away and she couldn't quite see. She put a hand lightly on the side of his face as she ducked her head, trying to decipher what was wrong, "Harm? Honey? What is it? Is it your shoulder?" She glanced towards the call button, "I could get a nurse."

He shook his head, "No, no nurse."

Mac was shocked at the sound of tears in his voice. Letting go of his hand, she wrapped both arms around him, pulling him close, "Harm, please. What is it?"

He put his head down on her shoulder, his voice muffled, "I was so - scared I'd lost you this time." Her heart broke a little at the raw sound of that confession and she tightened her embrace. Harm began speaking again, "We heard the shot, Charlie and me, and then we saw you at the bottom of that ravine." He paused and shuddered a bit, "Thought my own heart had stopped." Harm straightened up enough to look at her, his eyes red-rimmed.

"Oh Harm," She leaned forward and kissed him gently. "It's okay. It didn't happen. I'm right here."

He nodded slowly, pulling her back into a hug, "You gotta stop doing this to me, MacKenzie. I'm getting old. You're going to give me a heart attack."

Mac smiled into his chest, relieved to hear some semblance of normalcy returning to his voice. Tilting her head up, she arched an eyebrow, "Believe me Rabb, that's not how I was planning to give you a heart attack."

He couldn't help chuckling at the saucy tone, "Oh really? Think you've got the stuff, Marine?"

"And then some, Navy," she retorted, grinning, "And if you spring me from this place, I'll be happy to prove it."

Harm shook his head, reaching out to caress the side of her face, "You've got a one-track mind, you know that?"

Mac covered his hand with her own, smiling, "I prefer to think of it as goal-oriented."

The sound of the door opening interrupted them. Harm and Mac turned to see a nurse enter the room.

She smiled at them both, while scanning Mac's chart, "Ms. MacKenzie, it's good to see you awake. How does your head feel?" She approached the bed as Harm slipped unobtrusively back into his chair.

"I feel fine."

"She's got a headache."

Harm and Mac answered at the same time. The nurse eyed them both and then pointed at Harm, "I'm going with his version." Dutifully, she made a notation on the chart while Mac directed a glare at Harm that obviously said 'traitor'. The nurse moved up to the head of the bed, quickly and efficiently taking Mac's vitals.

"She's hungry," Harm added helpfully when it looked like the nurse was finished with her poking and prodding.

The woman nodded, checking her watch. "Breakfast will be in one hour." She smiled brightly once more and left.

Harm shrugged as he looked back at Mac, "I tried."

Mac regarded him narrowly, her arms loosely folded, "You told."

"You lied," Harm pointed out, completely unperturbed. He was familiar with her MO when it came to hospitals.

"Exaggerated," she huffed in return. She pointed a finger at him, "That's going to cost you breakfast."

Harm raised his hands, grinning, "I believe that's called entrapment." He waited a moment, enjoying watching her pout and then stood up. Leaning in, he gave her a swift kiss and pulled back, "One hot, greasy, artery-clogging breakfast coming right up."

Mac watched him leave and leaned back in satisfaction. "I am a lucky woman," she murmured softly and then smiled when she heard two quiet whispers of agreement.


	36. Chapter 36

Once again, I apologize for the long delay although, this time, the reason was more enjoyable. I've been on vacation to the Outer Banks of North Carolina for the last week. No internet access but lots of sun, surf and seafood. It was a wonderful break. I also wanted to thank all of you for your patience, understanding and kind words of encouragement. I was feeling stressed and guilty for not being able to update in a timely fashion and it added to the burden from work. Your messages helped alleviate all that and I'm grateful to have such considerate people reading my story. Thank you again.

Chapter 36

Wednesday,

Grace Memorial Hospital

San Diego, CA

0825 Local

Don nodded to Tomas Ruiz as he walked up to the entrance of Grace Memorial. The San Diego agent had agreed to a joint interview of the JAG officers. Jurisdiction wasn't really a question but courtesy was another thing. The two agents fell into step as they entered the hospital. Don looked up at Ruiz. The other agent was a good ten years older, long and lean with a spattering of grey running through his close-cropped hair. "I wanted to thank you again for getting my people out of there."

Tomas waved a hand, "De nada, how is your brother?"

"Still sleeping when I left," Don smiled, "I think the stress wore him out." The hour or three Charlie had spent on the phone with Amita had probably also contributed to his brother's fatigue but Don didn't think Ruiz needed to know that.

"This was an odd case," Ruiz commented while they waited for the elevator. He looked over at Don, "Colonel MacKenzie's abduction was tied to the sabotage attempt on the Nimitz? What did they think she knew?"

"I have no idea," Don shrugged, "I'm hoping the Colonel might be able to tell us." He was more than a little curious to hear the JAG officers' version of what happened. Actually, he was interested in how Harm and Mac would dance around certain issues with Agent Ruiz. Charlie had been almost comically uncomfortable relating some portions of the story. Don was well aware of his brother's attitude towards anything outside the realms of science and math. He was pretty sure it had inadvertently colored some of the facts.

"I understand you had some excitement of your own up in LA," Ruiz glanced over at Don as they got on the elevator. "Same group?"

"Looks like it," Don replied. "Apparently, they decided to try for downtown LA at the same time as the Nimitz. We figured out where they were planning to strike and got there ahead of them."

Ruiz whistled softly, "Nice work. They go down easy?"

"Not quite," Don snorted. "Some of those guys were hardcore. They preferred dying to being caught." He frowned a little, that hadn't been entirely true. The head guy, after leading them on a extended game of hide and seek, had surrendered meekly enough. It had been a tense moment when they'd finally cornered him. Both he and Walker had been certain that the man had the bio-weapon and would use it as a last resort. They'd been right and wrong. He did have two vials but he didn't attempt to use them or even bargain with them. It hadn't made sense but at the time, Don's feeling of relief had overpowered that niggling thread of unease. Now it was reasserting itself. What had they missed? It had taken them over an hour to catch the guy. He'd never left the sewer system as far as they could tell so what could he have done? As soon as Don finished here, he'd call David.

Ruiz was shaking his head, "Zealots are the worst. There's no reasoning with them." Don nodded silently, still somewhat preoccupied with his thoughts. The elevator came to a halt and the doors opened. The agents walked down the corridor.

Don pointed, "Room 533. Commander Rabb is probably there, too, so we can talk to them both at the same time." He couldn't help frowning again. Bander was still in the wind, in a manner of speaking. Don knew where he was but, at this particular moment, had not one shred of solid evidence that would allow him to arrest the man. Harm had stayed with Mac not only out of a sense of love but because Don knew he was afraid Bander might make another attempt on the Colonel.

They reached the door. Ruiz hung back a little as Don tapped on the door and then opened it a bit, "Harm? Mac? Is this a good time?" Hearing the quiet assurances, he motioned to Ruiz and walked into the room. Stopping at the foot of the bed, Don smiled at Mac, "You're looking good." He directed a semi-serious smirk at Harm, "You, on the other hand... "

"Shut up, Eppes," Harm retorted good-naturedly as he stood up to shake hands with Ruiz, "Good to see you again." He gestured towards the chair, "Either of you want a seat? I can sit on the bed."

Both agents shook their heads. Don gave Mac a curious look. She was staring at him as her hand drifted up to gingerly rub the yellowing bruise on her forehead, "Mac? Something wrong?" He saw Harm half-turn to shoot her a worried look.

"I don't - there was something - ," Mac's eyes suddenly widened in alarm, "Megan! Oh god, is she - ?"

Don held up his hands in a soothing gesture, "It's okay, she's okay. They're releasing her from the hospital today. You know about her eyes?"

Mac nodded as she leaned back into the pillows with a deep sense of relief. She could feel Harm lightly rubbing her shoulder, "They - He - told me she'd died."

"He who?" Don leaned forward a little, his hopes rising.

Mac frowned in concentration. Many of her memories were jumbled or had that almost out of focus, dreamlike quality to them. "No name - an older guy, stocky, short gray hair." She shook her head in frustration, "I think. It's all fuzzy." Mac looked at Don again, "Megan's eyesight, was it permanent?"

"No," Don tried to curb his disappointment although he'd been half expecting this. Charlie had been very clear that Mac had been affected by the concussion.

"Do you think you could pick him out of a lineup?" Ruiz cut in, looking as frustrated as Mac.

Mac stared at the other agent for a long moment before giving an apologetic shrug, "I don't know. I don't think I could be certain enough for a trial. I'm sorry."

"What do you remember?" Don asked gently while shooting a look at Ruiz. Knowing Mac, pressuring her would be counter-productive. "Take your time," he added for good measure.

"I - it's all in fragments," Mac felt Harm take her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. "There was a dark room. Megan was there. I don't remember being moved but the next thing I know I'm in a small bedroom. That man kept coming in to talk to me."

"About what?" Harm asked after glancing at Don. He could tell the agent was being as understanding as he could. The San Diego agent, however, wasn't doing a very good job at concealing his impatience.

Mac could only shake her head again, "I remember feeling scared - terrified really, but I'm not sure about what. He gave me something, I think, and everything got worse." She looked at Harm, "I lost time after that - seven hours and thirteen minutes. I'm not sure what happened except that when I finally came back to myself, I was outside in the dark."

Don's eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. Charlie had said she'd escaped but neither he nor Harm had any idea how it had come about. Don had been hoping Mac could shed some light on the subject. Considering what Megan had said - and Rabb, for that matter - he couldn't help wondering about a supernatural aspect. He shifted a little at the thought, folding his arms across his chest. When it came right down to it, Don didn't truly believe in any of that paranormal crap and the fact that he was even entertaining the notion was making him as uncomfortable as Charlie had been. Hell, he'd settle for something even remotely tangible to hang his hat on - say an isolated group of seven height-challenged miners or a large white rabbit with a waistcoat and pocket watch. Don tipped his head to the side, "You think someone had a change of heart and helped you escape?" Considering what he knew of Bander, he didn't really think it was a possibility. Don didn't believe there were too many people out there who would deliberately cross that man even at a distance and to do it virtually under his nose sounded like suicide.

Harm snorted irritably, "I don't think you could call that help. Have you been out in that area? It's rugged as hell. Mac's lucky she didn't break her neck."

At the same time, Mac was shaking her head, "I don't know. Nothing makes much sense although I'm pretty sure that old man didn't want to let me go. I can't see how the two guys that came after me would have defied him like that."

"So - what? You think that somehow, despite a concussion and supposedly being drugged, you managed to escape on your own? From three guys? Are you kidding?" Ruiz folded his arms as he glared at the woman in front of him. Something odd was going on, he could feel it.

"Look, for all I know, the tooth fairy plucked me out of there," Mac snapped back. "I told you. It's a blank." She could feel Harm starting to take umbrage and squeezed his hand. Mac didn't blame Agent Ruiz for his skepticism but the fact was, she was telling the truth. She couldn't recall how the hell she'd gotten out. Of course, she was dead certain it was Avis and Kate who'd managed it but, technically speaking, that could still be considered conjecture. She hadn't had a chance to question either of them about it. In any event, there was no way Mac intended to offer that explanation to anyone other than Harm.

"And you have no idea why they grabbed you in the first place?" Ruiz continued to press. There was something here the JAG officer wasn't saying and he was going to get to it, one way or another.

Mac shook her head again, "They were after McKlellan. I remember that much."

"Megan told us that McKlellan was dead," Don interrupted whatever Ruiz was going to say. He could tell Rabb was growing more and more annoyed.

"He is?" Mac's eyebrows rose in surprise and then she paused, clearly searching her memory. After a moment, she nodded slowly, "He is."

"You saw them kill him?" Ruiz straightened up a little. Finally, they were getting somewhere. Maybe MacKenzie had been traumatized from witnessing the murder. It probably wasn't something a lawyer saw firsthand.

"I guess, maybe, I can't say for sure," Mac shrugged helplessly. "I know he's dead, that's all."

Ruiz glanced over at Eppes to gauge his reaction. He knew the LA agent was looking at Carson Bander. Last he'd heard, no one had found McKlellan's body and now MacKenzie's testimony had been rendered useless. No prosecutor in his right mind would put her on the stand. His eyes narrowed. Suddenly, these memory lapses were seeming all too convenient. Bander was a rich, powerful man and the military wasn't known for the generosity of its pay scale. Perhaps MacKenzie's escape wasn't a mystery at all. His expression hardened, "How much is Bander paying you?"

"What?!" Mac, Harm and Don all spoke at once.

Immediately, Don took a step, placing himself between Ruiz and Harm. The Naval Commander looked astonished and furious while Mac just looked shocked. Don turned towards Ruiz, "That was out of line."

"Was it?" Ruiz demanded. "Tell me she didn't just tank any sort of case against Bander."

"C'mon, man, our case doesn't hinge on the Colonel's testimony. We already knew from Megan that she had a head injury," Don countered, while making sure Harm was staying put. Fortunately, it looked like Mac had a firm grip on Rabb's arm, keeping him in place. Don rubbed the back of his neck. The tension in the room was stifling.

"Jackass."

Mac stiffened slightly and then gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Kate had sounded angry and Mac didn't want her reacting any more than she wanted Harm to lose control. She didn't know if Ruiz was serious or if he was merely trying to provoke. She'd be damned if she'd allow him any satisfaction one way or the other.

"What are the two guys we caught saying about it?" Harm broke in with a scowl after shooting a glare at Don. It had taken a real effort to come out with that question rather than what he really wanted to say. That thick-headed SOB! Mac's hold on him was the only reason he hadn't thrown the San Diego agent out on his ass.

"Nothing," Ruiz all but growled, "They lawyered up as soon as we took them into custody."

"They have a lawyer already? Who?" Harm continued to frown. Dammit, he'd been hoping at least one of them would roll over and give them Bander.

"A high-powered shark by the name of Manny Orwitz," Ruiz shook his head while glancing at Eppes. The LA agent stared back wordlessly. Ruiz lifted his hands slightly in mute apology. He'd mentioned to Eppes that the two had refused to talk but hadn't spoken of Orwitz. Judging from the other agent's demeanor, that had been a mistake. His tone became more conciliatory, "He was there within an hour of our reaching headquarters. Not that either one was saying much before but neither one has let out a peep since he talked to them."

"Do you know who hired him?" Don let a touch of ice color his voice. Charlie had told him how rattled both men had been after their capture. He'd hoped to capitalize on that, which now sounded impossible. He bet a month's salary that Bander was funding Orwitz and that the lawyer's legal advice had also included a warning of the consequences for ratting out the old man. He'd bet another month's salary that they wouldn't be able to prove it.

Ruiz shrugged, "Manny's not likely to say. I know it's not those two. Their combined annual income would barely cover his retainer."

"Do they know they could face the death penalty for the attempted murder of Agent Reeves?" Don asked, looking for any sort of leverage. He was supposed to go to the San Diego headquarters to meet up with those two. It would be pointless if he couldn't get them talking.

"I'm not sure," Ruiz admitted as he checked his watch. He looked back at Don, ignoring the JAG officers, "I need to get back to the office. Do you want to come with me?" He wasn't surprised when Eppes declined. Since he had inadvertently taken on the 'bad cop' persona, maybe the LA agent would have better success with MacKenzie by playing good cop. Even though Eppes was working with the two military lawyers, Ruiz knew his reputation for integrity. He would put the case above any sort of friendship.

After watching Ruiz leave the room, Don turned back towards Harm and Mac, folding his arms once again, "Okay, now will one of you tell me exactly what the hell went on out there?"

Wednesday,

Liwanu Enterprises

Los Angeles, CA

0900 Local

Margery Threetrails stood for a moment outside Carson Bander's door. He'd been in the office since yesterday, his mood irascible. While he'd pulled all-nighters before when some deal or other required his personal attention, this was the first time she'd seen him this angry for this long. She'd offered her help in the beginning and been thoroughly rebuffed. Now she was wondering if a second offer would have the same result. Margery took a deep breath, tightening her grip on the bag containing the Bear's favorite meal from a nearby restaurant. The man needed to eat and perhaps it would give her an opening.

She knew it had to have had something to do with his plan and that it couldn't have been anything good. The visit from the FBI earlier and the news about the death of JohnnyD, combined with the fire that had leveled their Inglewood factory was enough to tell her that things had gone terribly wrong. Margery assumed he was regrouping. The Bear was a tenacious man and would doubtless be attempting to salvage something out of the mess. Would he let her help? There was no way to know. Resolutely, she knocked on his door, wincing a little at the sharp 'What?'

"I've brought you some food. You've haven't had a decent meal since you've been back." After walking in, Margery decided a firm, no-nonsense tone would be best. This one time, she would not behave as a subordinate.

Bander swallowed the sarcastic and angry reply that had first come to his lips. Margery hadn't done anything to merit that sort of churlish behavior. She was the daughter he'd never had, trite as that sounded, and he knew she was covertly offering help along with the food. "Thank you," was all he finally said and he watched as she placed the bag on his desk. They eyed each other for a moment before he ducked his head a little, "It's quite possible that I'm going to be arrested. I have no intention of having them take you as well."

Margery sucked in a breath. He'd sounded so matter-of-fact, something she'd not seen before when he'd suffered a defeat. She leaned forward a bit, resting her hands on his desk, "Shouldn't that be my decision?"

"Tomorrow, possibly, but not today." Bander smiled at her confusion and pulled a paper out of the stack. "At the end of business today, I'm officially retired. My last act as CEO is to appoint my successor - you. Congratulations, my dear. I know Liwanu will be in good hands."

Margery stiffened in surprise, staring from the paper to Bander and back again. Her mind was racing as she tried to make sense of this abrupt change. He was distancing himself from Liwanu and her, creating a buffer for whatever he had in mind to do next. They both understood that this change in status did nothing to diminish his influence and power. Finally her eyes narrowed. As unbelievable as it seemed, his plans must have met with complete disaster. Whatever remedy he was considering had to be dangerous enough that he felt the need to separate himself from his life's work. "Tell me what happened. Let me help."

"No."

There was a finality to his tone that told her he had no intention of yielding. She huffed inwardly. Well, the path to hell was paved with good intentions. "Who killed JohnnyD?"

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. After a moment's pause, Bander glanced to the side, "It was a warrior's death, undeserved as it turned out."

Margery slowly sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk, as she once again tried to decipher exactly what he was - and wasn't - saying. The FBI had said they'd found Johnny's body in the burned out factory but they hadn't really mentioned how he'd died... She looked at Bander, "He started the fire at Inglewood?" Kidnapping, murder and the attempted murder of a Federal agent - Johnny had been busy. The news had mentioned two fatalities at the fire but nothing about a survivor. The Feds were no doubt keeping that under wraps.

Bander nodded slowly, pleased and a little worried about how much she might already know. Finding someone to take care of MacKenzie was proving harder than he'd thought. Ironically, JohnnyD had always been his contact for these sorts of things. He'd put out some cautious feelers and had had some equally cautious responses. Now he needed to sort through them. He couldn't help the trace of bitterness in his voice, "Betrayals must be answered."

Margery stood up, "Always. How do you want to announce your retirement?" She needed time to think all this through. He'd said enough, combined with what she already knew, to give her an idea of what was going on. How she would respond was another question altogether. The company was hers now and its survival and health had to be her paramount concern. The Bear would expect nothing less. With Liwanu being privately held, there were no shareholders to answer to so the transition would be a little smoother.

"Call an emergency meeting for this afternoon. I'll tell everyone then," Bander replied approvingly. Although this was happening sooner than he'd anticipated, it was obvious that Margery was ready for the challenge. While still deferring to him, she was already moving to consolidate her power. There would be those that opposed her and he could almost feel sorry for them. There would be little left of them when she was done. He'd trained her well. Bander watched her nod and walk out of the room before opening the bags of food. Hopefully, he would be equally successful.

Wednesday,

FBI headquarters,

Los Angeles, CA

1530 Local

Don pulled into his parking space in the garage and glanced in the rearview mirror before turning around to look in the back seat. Harm was attempting to wake Mac up. The Colonel had dozed off shortly after they'd started and, apparently, had been sleeping soundly. "You sure you don't want to go back to your hotel? Her doctor did say to take it easy."

"I'm fine." Mac answered sleepily as she reluctantly pushed upright from her comfortable position nestled against Harm's side. It was bad enough that she was an unreliable witness in the case against Bander. The least she could do was help find another way to nail the guy.

"Okay," Don shrugged a little towards Charlie as both brothers got out of the car and received one in return. By now, they were well-acquainted with the Marine's stubbornness. Don snorted to himself as he opened Mac's door for her and offered a hand. His brother and Harm had been equally stubborn about getting back to work so the Colonel didn't exactly have a corner on being mule-headed. She had, however, been remarkably candid with him after Ruiz had left. The problem was that no one in their right mind would believe half of it. For the record, Don was going with Charlie's version of events.

His interview with the two suspects had been about as unproductive as he'd feared. Neither denied that they'd been chasing Mac although their lawyer had the unmitigated gall to allege that the shootings at Mac, Harm and Charlie were a misunderstanding. The men had been shooting at jackrabbits. Since forensics were impossible out there, the ridiculous explanation had to stand. No reasonable person would believe it, but Don had had enough experience with juries to realize that reasonableness didn't always enter into the equation. The oddest thing about the entire interview was the sense he got that both men were afraid of Mac. James Swift had been the more frightened of the two. He'd be sure to mention that to the prosecutor. It was possible the mere sight of Mac during the trial might rattle the man enough to break his story.

The ride up in the elevator was quiet. They were all tired. They entered the bullpen, exchanging greetings with various agents as they made their way to Don's area. Don broke into a grin and he picked up the pace when he spotted a familiar figure standing with David and Colby. "Megan!" He indulged in a brief hug, mindful of the office atmosphere, and then eyed her critically, "Why aren't you home resting?"

He didn't get an answer as Harm, Mac and Charlie joined the group. After greeting the three, Megan commandeered Mac, ushering her into the conference room with an "Excuse us, guys," tossed over her shoulder. Don watched them leave and then turned to Larry, "How is she?"

Larry rubbed his face, his gaze still on the women. Once they'd disappeared into the conference room, he turned his attention to Don, "Remarkable, as always. Her eyesight is improving daily but her hands and knees are still quite sore. She's been terribly worried about Colonel MacKenzie but you've rectified that situation." He looked over at Harm and Charlie and smiled, "I should say, you two rectified it. Well done." Larry tilted his head slightly as he focused on Charlie, "I trust you've spoken to Amita?"

"Constantly," Don interrupted in a dry tone, causing his brother to blush slightly while the other men smiled. He looked over at David and Colby, "Anything new on our terrorists?"

David shook his head, "Of the two we have in custody, the only guy talking is the one who doesn't know squat. It's kind of weird. It's pretty obvious he hates the head guy, Husam, so I don't know how he became part of the group. It looks like he was hired as the muscle but why take a guy who's that hostile? There had to be other choices out there."

"Unless Husam wasn't the one doing the hiring," Harm pointed out. "It could be that Bander put the whole group together and expected them to work with each other. The guy who's talking is a mercenary, isn't he?"

"Yeah, his name's Harvey Mendelson," Colby spoke up. "He's got the usual resume for a mercenary. Special Ops during the Gulf War, mustered out and kicked around the world for a while before winding up in Somalia. From there, it looks like he's gone from one trouble spot to another."

"Does he know who hired him?" Don had to ask even though he knew Colby would have mentioned it first if there'd been a solid connection to Bander. As he expected, the younger agent shook his head.

"I've put the word out to some of my buddies in Army Intel and Special Ops," Colby offered. "There had to be other guys approached out there. Maybe Bander slipped up with one of them." It was a long shot but you never knew.

"He did finger Husam for killing Fawwaz, for what that's worth," David added. "It seems the kid overheard a conversation between Rashid and Husam and put two and two together."

"How did McKlellan fit in?" Harm asked.

David shook his head, "Mendelson didn't recognize his photo but he did say Husam was providing them with all sorts of intel about Ventura. Security plans and personnel, computer codes, maintenance schedules - that sort of thing. You know it had to be McKlellan."

Harm nodded slowly, his expression hard, "So if, by some chance, he's still alive, he would be facing the death penalty for treason." He sighed, glancing around the office, "I'd better update General Cresswell again. McKlellan's family is already out for blood over his being missing." He didn't bother mentioning that both JAG and the FBI were the objects of their ire. Everyone here was aware of the political fallout.

- - - - -

Megan shut the door and then turned around to scrutinize the Colonel carefully. She was wearing a t-shirt and warm-up pants. There was a fading bruise on her forehead and any number of small scrapes and bruises visible on her arms. No doubt her legs had the same damage. She seemed thinner as well although her eyes were clear. Only a small telltale crease between her eyebrows betrayed a headache.

Mac, for her part, was eyeing the agent up and down. Megan's eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, telling her that the agent's eyesight hadn't yet recovered fully. The bruise on her jaw was barely visible under skillfully applied makeup and both hands were wrapped in gauze. From the stiffness in her walk, Mac suspected either her feet or knees had been similarly injured.

"Are you okay?" Both women spoke at once and then smiled. Megan waved a hand at the chairs, "Let's sit, my knees are killing me."

Mac nodded and they both took a seat. Leaning forward, Mac spoke first, her eyes dropping to the floor, "I'm sorry I left you." She glanced up at Megan, "Can you tell me what happened exactly? A lot of it is a blur."

Megan leaned back, tipping her head to the side, "Only if you promise to stop feeling responsible. Neither of us had much control over the situation." After accepting Mac's somewhat reluctant nod, the agent glanced around the room and then leaned forward herself, lowering her voice, "Are they here with you now?"

Mac blinked in surprise and then held still for a moment. She was getting better at picking up both Kate and Avis' presence. Practice, part of her noted wryly. "They're here." She nodded, then admitting, "I haven't had much of chance to talk to them since Harm and Charlie found me."

"Then there's no time like the present," Megan smiled and then addressed the air between them, "I know I said this before, but thanks, Kate. I owe you my life."

Mac eyed her curiously, "Can you hear Kate?" She knew Harm couldn't but Charlie could - when he chose to listen.

"You're welcome," Kate answered as Megan was shaking her head.

The agent grinned ruefully, her hand going up to rub the back of her head, "She found another way to communicate." Megan gave Mac a curious look when the Colonel chuckled, "What?"

Mac kept grinning, "Kate's boss at NCIS, Jethro Gibbs, is famous for head-slapping his agents when he thinks they're getting off-track."

Megan grinned, too, "Well, it worked. That and pulling me here, there and everywhere. I never would have gotten out on my own."

Mac sobered, "The man that was holding me, told me you were dead. He - apologized," she added slowly as another fragment of memory surfaced, "said he didn't know about the fire until it was too late."

Megan nodded sympathetically, "I'm sorry you had to go through that. It was close." She held up her hands for a moment, "I was crawling at the end." She eyed the Colonel, "What about you? What happened after they took you out of the room?"

"I have no idea," Mac shook her head and then glanced from side to side, "But I'd like to know. Avis? Kate?"

Avis' voice was soft as she began, "One of them injected you with a sedative as soon as they removed you from the room. I wasn't fast enough to stop him. I'm sorry, it nearly killed you."

"I had that jerk by the throat when the old man put a gun to your head and told us to stop," Kate added in a growl, remembering her frustrated anger.

Mac's eyes widened in shock and, at Megan's persistent nudging, numbly repeated what Avis and Kate had said. For the next thirty minutes, the full story of her ordeal unfolded.

- - - - -

Colby glanced into the conference room where the women had been sequestered for the last fifteen minutes, "Any idea what's going on in there?" Charlie and Larry were off to the side, talking quietly while Larry waited for Megan.

"Catching up on everything, I would guess," Harm shrugged off-handedly. Since Megan fully believed in Kate and Avis' existence, he figured they were part of the conversation. That worked for him. Mac would fill him in later. He looked at David and Don, "So what's our next move?"

"I don't know about you, but I've just been hired to assassinate a Lt. Col. Sarah MacKenzie, USMC." FBI agent and one of the top four snipers in the world, Ian Edgerton leaned against a doorframe and took another sip of his coffee.


	37. Chapter 37

Okay, we're close to the end now. I figure one more chapter, possibly two, depending on how long it takes to wrap up all the threads and set the stage for my next outing. As always, hope you enjoy.

Chapter 37

Wednesday,

FBI headquarters,

Los Angeles, CA

1555 Local

Don rose from his chair, his pleasure at seeing Agent Edgerton at war with his reaction to the man's last statement. Harm felt no such conflict as he surged to his feet, putting himself between Edgerton and the conference room, "Who the hell are you?"

"Easy, Rabb," Don held up a hand, "He's one of the good guys. This is Special Agent Ian Edgerton, one of the top five snipers in the world."

"Top four," Ian corrected mildly, holding up four fingers. He directed a smile at Charlie, who was approaching with his own grin, "Hey Professor, how're you doing? I heard what happened at CalSci."

"I'm okay," Charlie ducked his head a bit, still inexplicably embarrassed by the whole thing. "What are you doing here?" He'd been deep in his conversation with Larry when the sound of Harm hurriedly getting out of his chair had gotten both men's attention. His concern had turned to pleasure when he finally saw Ian. Even if Edgerton hadn't saved his life, Charlie believed they still would have become friends. In his own way, Ian was as much a prodigy as Charlie. Their first couple of meetings had been rocky but then each had come to appreciate the other's talents.

"He says he's here to assassinate Mac," Don supplied, leaning against his desk and raising an eyebrow at Edgerton.

"What?!" Charlie's eyes widened as his gaze shot from Ian to Harm to his brother.

"Relax, Charile, I don't need the extra money that badly," Ian shoved himself off the doorframe and walked further into the room, nodding to David and Colby.

"Who hired you?" Don asked. The obvious choice was Carson Bander but he doubted the man would be that open. The question was, could they get him to come out of the shadows?

Ian shrugged, "Don't know yet. The contract came through a guy I know."

Harm regarded the man suspiciously. Everything about him screamed dangerous. "And you're not worried about being recognized?"

Ian gave the Naval Commander an amused look, "Well, it's not like there's paparazzi following me around. Besides, most snipers are recognized by their work, not their faces."

"You can say that again," Granger muttered quietly. David glanced at the younger agent, raising a questioning eyebrow. Colby kept his voice low while continuing to stare at Edgerton, "He did a tour in Afghanistan while I was there. Never saw him in person but we always knew where he'd been. The Taliban thought he was the devil incarnate. The man's a legend." He finally looked at David with a bit of awe, "I can't believe you guys know him."

"Since when do you shop around for contract hits?" Don relaxed a little now that Rabb didn't seem intent on mixing it up with Edgerton.

"I don't but an acquaintance of mine contacted me - said I'd be interested in the specifics. He was right," Ian glanced at Harm and the conference room just beyond before looking back at Don. "Military lawyers, and female ones at that, don't usually rate a hit - especially for the amount being offered." He then leveled a longer look at Harm, "Of course, when I heard the name, it made more sense. What have you two been up to now?"

"Up to?" Harm managed to look indignant as he jerked a thumb at Don, "It's his case."

"What's going on?"

Harm turned to find Megan standing in the conference room doorway with Mac close behind. The agent had her arms folded as she regarded the men in front of her. Mac, uncharacteristically, was leaning against the door frame looking a bit pale. Harm started to move towards her but stopped at the barest shake of her head.

Don spoke up, "Megan, this is Ian - "

"Edgerton," Megan finished, "I know. One of the top ten snipers in the world."

"Top fo - ," Ian paused, catching the tiny hint of a smile and then chuckled as he shook a finger at her, "Funny." He turned back to Don, "Is this how you raise your team?"

Don gave an elaborate shrug, "Kids these days." At the same time, he caught Megan's eye and tipped his head in Mac's direction, raising his eyebrow a fraction. He caught the unspoken 'later' even as she returned her attention to Ian and smiled.

"To what do we owe the pleasure, Agent Edgerton?"

"He's been hired to kill Mac." Don watched the Colonel straighten as her eyes widened in shock. That was followed swiftly by anger as she moved towards Edgerton. Harm deftly intercepted her, halting her forward progress. That didn't stop both JAG officers from glaring at Edgerton. Don had to admit, they were an intimidating couple.

Ian was unperturbed, "Colonel MacKenzie, I presume?" He gestured with his coffee mug, "Damn, woman, it looks like someone already tried." Ian glanced around the room, growing serious, "Would someone like to tell me what's going on?"

Don started, with David, Megan and Charlie jumping in to add their parts. Neither Mac nor Harm said anything at all. Mac walked over to the chair Harm had vacated and sat down. Harm moved in behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders. He could feel the tension there but he was fairly certain it wasn't entirely due to Edgerton. Unfortunately, he also knew he'd probably have to wait until they were alone before she'd talk to him. Since it no doubt had something to do with Kate and Avis, it was a safe bet that Mac wouldn't want an audience.

Ian shook his head as the others finished their narrative, "Man, you do pull the interesting cases, don't you?" He glanced around the room until his gaze settled on Mac He studied her before he spoke, trying to get a feel for the Marine Colonel. She was a little younger than he'd expected for a light bird colonel but from what he'd seen of her record, she'd earned her position. More importantly, MacKenzie didn't seem like the type to panic. Edgerton had an idea of what he wanted to try. If he was reading the signs correctly, his biggest problem was currently hovering just behind the Colonel. Commander Rabb was more than a little protective, "I guess we'd better figure out the best way to kill you."

Thursday,

Liwanu Enterprises

Los Angeles, CA

0920 Local

Bander squinted at the computer screen, muttered a soft expletive and pulled a pair of reading glasses out of his desk drawer. Adjusting them on his nose, he began reading again. So far, there'd been very little open protest about Margery taking over Liwanu so suddenly. He hadn't expected much overt resistance. The subterfuge, however, was probably kicking into high gear. Bander smiled to himself. Let them try. Margery would cut them off at the knees without even breaking a sweat.

Leaning back in his chair, Bander glanced around the office. Stepping down was the right decision. He needed to concentrate his energies if he was going to salvage anything out of the multiple disasters that had occurred. Fortunately, politics as usual was keeping the state government in turmoil so there was still an outside chance, albeit, a very small one. Bander couldn't help the scowl that chased across his features. How could he have misread the signs so completely? Unable to sit still, Bander tossed his glasses on the desk and stood up. He began to pace, going over everything again and again. The thing was, the more he thought about it, the more he was positive that he hadn't misread anything. MacKenzie and Professor Eppes, it was those two who had ruined everything.

Bander scrubbed a hand through his hair. Okay, to be scrupulously fair, he probably owned a small portion of the blame as well. His disdain for the bloated and corrupt government as well as his contempt for its puling bureaucrats had spilled over and he'd underestimated both the JAG officers and the FBI. In hindsight, he never should have added McKlellan into his plans. The last-minute temptation to seek justice from that whole sorry clan had been too great. It had also apparently proved to be the grain of sand that disrupted the smooth flow of his plans. He still thought he might have pulled it off if it hadn't been for Charles Eppes. Bander hadn't fully believed the man's reputation for genius before, but he did now. He didn't think anyone else could have pulled together so many disparate facts quickly enough to thwart Husam's portion of his plans.

He also firmly believed he might have saved something if he'd heeded what he now saw as warnings from his ancestors. That he hadn't was a direct result of having been deceived and lied to by MacKenzie. How the hell she'd managed to do that while stuffed to the gills with peyote only proved the depths of her treachery. He'd been fooled by her beauty, never suspecting the pure evil that lurked beneath. Removing such a traitorous and unsavory influence from society was now a sacred duty and he'd already taken steps in that direction. It had been somewhat nerve-wracking. Bander was moving in unfamiliar territory. He'd googled hate groups, correctly figuring that they would know the type of person he needed. After cautiously entering various chat rooms, he'd found a lead about a classified ads website that claimed to be able to find any type of service for a price. From there, he'd put out a careful inquiry and received a surprising number of responses.

It was amazing and somewhat appalling to learn how many people were enthusiastically ready and willing kill a complete stranger. Three-quarters of them were hate-crazed crackpots that he could easily dismiss. The remainder, however, were tough to sort through. Eventually, one in particular had intrigued him. The man maintained that he wasn't the right guy for the job but that he had a colleague who was. Further correspondence had only whetted Bander's curiosity. They had finally struck a tentative agreement. Most of the key details had been hammered out: the fee required (plus a commission of sorts for the man who had initially suggested his colleague) and method of payment; the identity of the target and the proof required that the job was complete. The only dispute had been that the sniper insisted on meeting Bander face-to-face once MacKenzie was dead. He could understand the man's reasoning. Having each being able to identity the other made for equal diligence in avoiding the law.

Bander sighed deeply. That was one thing he didn't want to do and he'd seriously considered calling off the deal. However, that would have meant starting over again looking for another shooter and Bander had found he really didn't have the patience for it. It was one thing to hate the government for its systematic genocide of his people; it was quite another to hate merely out of some sort of demented sense of superiority. Wading through those people the first time had left him torn between wanting to drop a bomb on the whole sorry lot or taking a long, hot shower. He hadn't wanted to do it again.

Bander stopped by the window and looked out across the city. When they'd made contact again for the final details, he'd acquiesced to the last demand. It would be for the greater good and it would keep MacKenzie from collaborating with Eppes on any further interference. So far, the mess had been largely contained and he intended to keep it that way.

Thursday,

FBI Headquarters

Los Angeles, CA

1130 Local

"I don't like this," Harm muttered for what seemed like the hundredth time. Mac didn't say anything. She was probably less thrilled than he was but it didn't seem as if she had much choice. Bander now wanted her dead and it had been ironic as hell that he'd unknowingly chosen the FBI's top sniper to do it. This was the best chance they'd have to catch the bastard. She hoped Edgerton was as good as he thought he was since all of this hinged on him shooting her. It was a ploy so old that it was practically a cliche but no one had any better ideas so that was what they were going with. As ridiculous as it sounded, Mac was grateful Bander had settled on shooting. There were so many nastier ways to die.

General Cresswell was on board with the plan. He wasn't happy about it either but then, there was damned little about this entire case to be happy about. Senator Coughlin and the McKlellan family had been grief-stricken to hear of Bradley's unconfirmed death and absolutely enraged at the charges he would have faced. Sensitive to their position, it was no wonder that the rage all but overpowered the grief. Most of it was directed at Harm and herself, along with a healthy portion reserved for the FBI. Cresswell was stubbornly dug in, categorically refusing to blame either of his JAG officers for so something obviously out of their control. The SecNav was busily tap-dancing between the two factions, trying to salvage his political aspirations while not appearing to be caving before the powerful and rich McKlellans. He was apparently aware that Cresswell and JAG were in the right but Mac figured it was just a matter of time before he decided it was all about survival and went the scapegoat route.

"Mac? Colonel?"

Mac reluctantly pulled her focus back to the present and looked at Colby, "Hmmm?"

"It's getting close to time. I need to attach this." He hefted the blood pack in his hand while trying not to look too worried. He had absolute faith that Edgerton would fulfill his end of the charade but he wasn't as sanguine about Mac's mental state. Timing was critical and her concentration was no where near what it had been before the abduction. If there'd been any choice in the matter, he would have advocated waiting a couple more days to give her more time to recover. He knew without asking that Rabb and Don fully concurred. The problem, of course, was that Bander was, quite literally, calling the shots.

Eyeing the pack with distaste, Mac began unbuttoning her uniform top revealing the lightweight body armor she had on underneath. Being in LA had its perks. Granger had come up with a blood pack like they used in the movies. When Edgerton hit her, there would be a wonderfully realistic bloodstain to ruin her uniform.

Don walked in while Colby was finishing attaching the pack. He nodded quietly as Mac rebuttoned her top, "That looks good. I don't think anyone will be able to tell you've got body armor on."

"You want to tell me again why Edgerton has to use live ammo?" Harm asked sourly from where he was leaning on a desk. He waved a hand towards Colby, "If you can get one of those blood packs, why not the gizmo they use to mimic bullets hitting?"

"Because those are small explosives and I'm not qualified to handle them. Don't worry. That man can put a bullet through a quarter at a hundred yards. He's not going to miss," Colby glanced at his watch again before looking at Mac. "You ready to go?"

Mac nodded silently, knowing it didn't matter if she was ready or not. They had a schedule to keep. She paused a moment, giving Harm and Don a chance to fall in behind her, and then followed Colby out the door. Harm looked over at Don, keeping his voice down, "He's not using anything larger than a .25 caliber, right? That armor Mac's wearing will crack wide open if he uses anything heavier."

Don bit back a sigh. He really couldn't blame Rabb, it was his fiancee they were about to shoot, but this constant questioning was getting old. "Ian knows more about his job than all of us put together. He'll use the right caliber and he'll put the shot exactly where it needs to go. We have agents set up as EMTs to declare her dead at the scene and Walker has informed his patrolmen as well. This is going to work and we're going to nail Bander, okay?"

Harm subsided with a nod, hearing the suppressed exasperation in Don's voice. He didn't like this, not from the get-go. The feeling of impending disaster had been growing all morning. Mac had been more or less fatalistic about the whole thing. She was just going to grit her teeth and get through it. Last night at the hotel hadn't helped. They'd holed up in Mac's room, ordering room service for dinner and she'd filled him in on what Avis and Kate had told her. He'd been appalled at what she'd gone through and guilt-stricken that he hadn't been able to protect her. He kept to himself the little pang of jealousy that Avis and Kate had been able to do what he couldn't. They were there, of course, making Harm somewhat uncomfortable. He hadn't considered how constant their presence might be and there were definitely times when he and Mac required privacy. Not that he was planning anything right then, Mac was in obvious need of rest, but in the future - .

Not wanting to come right out with it, he'd beaten around the bush in hopes Mac would pick up on his dilemma and save him from saying it out loud. Unfortunately, the lingering effects of her concussion meant that Mac wasn't nearly as sharp as usual and he'd just about worn a path around that particular bush before Avis apparently figured it out. The look on Mac's face when Avis clued her in was priceless and Harm would have enjoyed it more if he hadn't been nearly as flustered. Knowing that Avis knew was invoking the same uncomfortable feeling that had occurred when he was a kid and realized for the first time that his mother and Frank were capable of sex. As if on cue, his parents had chosen that moment to call and see how they both were doing. Later that night, after they'd turned in, Mac had sleepily informed him that their privacy was intact. Neither Kate nor Avis were voyeurs and made themselves scarce when the need arose. Nestled together, and despite his worries, Harm had slept soundly for the first time in days.

"Harm, you ready?"

He looked up to see Mac watching him and nodded slowly, "Sure. Let's do it."

Mac gave him a sideways glance as he moved up alongside her. She knew he was worried about this but there really wasn't anything she could do about it. They had to go through with the plan. It didn't help to know that Kate was just as unhappy. Considering the fact that she'd died at the hands of a sniper, her mood was understandable. Reaching the doors that led outside to the elevated walkways on the side of the building, they paused and exchanged a look. Taking a breath, Harm stepped forward and held the door open for her. Mac stepped through and then waited for him to join her. Together, they started up the concourse. The environment wasn't as contained as Don and Edgerton would have liked. Closing the walkways to the public might have raised red flags about what they were attempting.

Harm could feel Mac growing more tense with each step they took. It was understandable. Body armor notwithstanding, it was going to hurt when the bullet hit. They passed various bystanders, knowing they had to be in the clear before Edgerton would shoot. Abruptly, Mac slowed, her eyes widening. Harm gave her a questioning look, keeping his voice down, "What?"

Mac shook her head, the sudden flow of adrenalin actually making her tremble. She'd seen something... no, someone, that had triggered her subconscious. Slowly, she turned around, scanning the walkway again. Suddenly, Kate's voice erupted next to Mac, "He's here! 2 o'clock! That bastard's here!" Mac swung her eyes in that direction and froze as fragments of images flashed through her head. It was him, the old man, watching her while he leaned against the walkway railing, a folded newspaper casually resting in his hands. He straightened as soon as he realized she'd recognized him, turning towards her, the paper now in front of him. Mac had a split-second of horrified realization, instinctively turning towards Harm just as all hell broke loose.

- - - -

"David! Talk to me!" Don demanded as he and Colby sprinted out of the security room where they'd been watching everything on the closed-circuit TVs.

"I don't know." David's voice sounded breathless and Don knew he was running, too. He'd been positioned on the far side of walkway. "The Colonel saw something and turned around."

"There was another shooter," Ian's calm voice broke in. "He's down. It doesn't look like there's anyone else." There was a slight pause and his voice was a little quieter, "Rabb and MacKenzie are down, too."

Don uttered a heartfelt expletive and increased his speed, hitting the exit doors at nearly a dead run. The walkway was still in turmoil as people milled about, obviously undecided whether or not to run now that the shooting had stopped. Don and Colby deftly threaded their way through the onlookers, reaching the scene at nearly the same time as David. Colby broke off to go to the shooter while Don continued on to Harm and Mac. He was almost afraid to look. How could things have gone so wrong?

David was already on the phone, calling for EMS as Don knelt down next to the JAG officers. Harm was flat on his back with Mac sprawled across him. Both were unconscious but Don was relieved to see they were also still breathing. David crouched down next to him, "Paramedics should be here in a few." He looked over at Don, "Should we move them? I can't see where they were hit."

Don scrubbed a hand through his hair, "I don't know." He didn't want to make anything worse.

He glanced over as Colby knelt down on his other side. "It was Bander," the younger agent confirmed what Don had suspected. "He had a 9 mil wrapped in that paper. Edgerton put a round right through his forehead. What the hell was he doing here?"

"My guess is he wanted to see the kill," Ian stood before them, his rifle cradled in his arms. The LAPD had arrived. They were clearing the final civilians out and cordoning the walkway off. "He probably thought MacKenzie wouldn't recognize him with the concussion and all. Must have surprised the hell out of him when she did. He got a couple of shots off before I could take him out."

"Damn," Don muttered looking back at the JAG officers. He couldn't see any obvious blood. Where were the paramedics? He was about to say the hell with it and at least move Mac off of Harm when the EMTs finally arrived. The agents moved back a little, giving them room to work. Don shifted so that he could see what was going on.

After a quick examination, the paramedics carefully rolled Mac off of Harm and onto a backboard. Don noted that they made sure to keep her head aligned with her spine, fastening a cervical collar around her neck before letting her go. They split up after that, the man taking Harm and the woman staying with Mac. After a minute or so, the female paramedic sat back on her heels and looked at the agents. "What the hell is this?" she gestured at the blood pack still taped to the body armor.

Colby raised a hand, "Um, that would be mine."

The paramedic eyed Granger for a moment before leaning forward to snip through the tape. A minute later, she tossed it at him and began unfastening the armor, muttering a little under her breath. Don tensed as she removed the body armor. He hadn't seen any blood on it and fervently hoped that that meant Bander had missed. His hopes were dashed when he saw the blood staining the side of Mac's t-shirt and he swore quietly. The paramedic glanced up at him as she cut away material and taped a wad of dressing over the wound, "It's pretty shallow. Looks like the bullet decided to go around instead of through. The armor must have slowed it up quite a bit." She continued her examination, frowning a little as she shone a light in Mac's eyes.

"She's getting over a concussion," Don offered.

"Then this is not her week," the paramedic stopped to scribble down notes and then looked over at her partner, "How are you doing? Need any help?"

"Nah, looks like he got smacked pretty hard in the chest and then knocked himself silly when he hit the pavement. Got a small abrasion on the back of his head but no concussion and I can't feel any fractures." The paramedic gently patted the sides of Harm's face, "Come on, buddy. It's time to wake up." After a minute, he was rewarded with a low groan.

Harm grimaced as he squinted up at the sky. He felt like he'd been run over by a freight train that had then backed up and parked on his head. What the hell had happened? He couldn't focus.

"Hey, Commander."

A face floated into Harm's field of vision and he found he couldn't focus his eyesight either. Despite that, it seemed familiar. He started to bring a hand up to his head and groaned as pain erupted in his shoulder. Another face swam into view, "Hey buddy, you hurt your shoulder, too?" The question was accompanied by a painful prodding of the afflicted area.

Harm inhaled sharply, the pain actually clearing some of the fog. He gritted his teeth, "Stop that or I'll break your hand." The prodding stopped abruptly and Harm heard a chuckle. He slowly turned his head that way and growled, "Not funny, Granger."

"Maybe not," Colby agreed, still smiling, "But it's good to see you awake." He waited, knowing as Harm returned more fully to consciousness, concern for Mac would be foremost in his thoughts. Sure enough, Harm suddenly tried to lever himself up, gasping at the effort. Granger was ready for him, putting a hand on his good shoulder and motioning the paramedic to let him handle it. "Easy there, it's okay. Mac's just over there. Don's with her." He gestured to the right.

"Is she hurt?" Harm squinted in the direction Colby had indicated, his head pounding.

Granger glanced away for a moment, "Not bad, I don't think. A bullet grazed her side and she might have hit her head. She's still out. You're both going to the hospital."

"What happened?" Harm winced as he put his head back down.

Colby's expression grew hard, "It was Bander. It looks like he wanted to witness Mac's death firsthand. I think he was surprised when she recognized him and he started shooting at you both. Ian took him out."

Harm turned his head towards Colby, "So it's over."

Granger could only shrug, "Looks like it."

- - - -

"Mac? Can you hear me? Mac?" Kate hovered anxiously over the JAG officers before sending an anguished look at Avis, "I hit them too hard. I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't reach him in time."

"You did what you had to," Avis soothed, looking in Bander's direction. Something was wrong.

Kate joined Avis as Don and David converged on the scene at the same time, "What's going on?" Half her attention was still on Mac and Harm.

"Nothing good," was the grim rejoinder.

That got all of Kate's attention and she turned to look at Bander. Her eyes widened and she took an involuntary step back, "What the hell - ?"

"Yes." Avis continued to watch the thing that was coalescing out of Bander's body. When it was done, it looked remarkably like Carson Bander but an aura of dark malevolence hung about it like a cloud revealing its true identity. It started to turn towards Harm and Mac and both Avis and Kate moved to intercept. That stopped it, and with a rumbling growl, it turned sideways and vanished.

Shaken, Kate turned towards Avis and found the woman had taken on a soft glow. "What's going on?" she repeated a bit more forcefully. It was probably a good thing she was a spirit or she'd be looking for a change of underwear right about now.

"The stakes are growing higher," Avis replied softly. She turned and smiled at Kate, "But, for now, we've won."


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Two days later,

Saturday,

Eppes Residence

Pasadena, CA

1205 Local

Alan leaned down and looked out the front window, "They're here."

"Great," Charlie poked his head out of the kitchen. "I'll be there in a second, just finishing up the salad." True to his word, he joined Alan on the porch by the time Harm, Mac and the Burnetts reached the steps. After introductions, handshakes and hugs were exchanged, they all moved inside. Trish stopped for a moment to admire the interior, "This is beautiful." She turned to Alan and Charlie, "Sarah tells me it's a Craftsman?" That was enough to get Alan started and soon the elder Eppes was leading Frank and Trish off for a tour of the house and grounds.

Charlie smiled as he watched them walk away and turned back to Harm and Mac, "Dad's going to talk their ears off." He looked the JAG officers up and down, "How are you two doing?"

Returning Charlie's smile, Mac spoke first, "Much better, thank you."

Harm nodded in agreement. He had an arm casually draped across Mac's shoulders so that she was comfortably tucked against his side, "Is everyone here already?"

"Just about," Charlie led them towards the back door, "Megan called, said she and Larry would be here in about ten minutes. Everybody else is out back."

A chorus of greetings met them as they stepped out on the patio. Harm went to join Don, Ian and David by the grill while Charlie and Mac sat at the picnic table with Amita and Colby.

"You look like you're feeling better," Colby poured a glass of sweet tea and handed it to Mac.

"I am, thanks," Mac sipped the tea and smiled. "And relieved this case is over."

"No arguments there," Charlie agreed, sharing a slight grin with Amita.

"So I guess you two will be heading back to DC soon?" Colby folded his arms and rested them on the table.

Mac shook her head, "General Cresswell granted us leave for the next three days, starting today." She looked in Harm's direction, "Harm's parents have invited us to stay with them so we'll be heading to La Jolla this evening. They've got a beautiful home on the ocean."

"Sounds nice. You both could use a break," Colby turned his head at the sound of a door opening and smiled, "Hey Megan, Larry." Alan walked up at nearly the same time with Frank and Trish. Introductions were made once more and shortly afterwards Don announced that the meat was ready. The next hour was spent eating and casually conversing. Eventually, everyone was reduced to what Alan referred to as 'filling up the corners' as they relaxed with their beverage of choice.

"That was delicious," Trish smiled at the Eppes men.

Frank nodded too, adding, "Thank you for including us."

"Nonsense, it was our pleasure" Alan waved a hand in dismissal and raised his wineglass, "And it's nice having someone else here who understands how these kids can turn you prematurely gray. We parents need to stick together."

"Amen to that," Trish raised her own glass before taking a sip.

"Aw, Dad, c'mon, it's not... ," Charlie started to argue and then gulped as the three turned to stare at him.

He looked over at Don who grinned as he held up a hand, "Oh no, nothing doing, Chuck. You can get yourself out of this one."

"Fine," Charlie huffed a little as his father eyed him expectantly, then straightened up. "Okay, really, it's just a matter of statistics. If we were to take the number of cases handled on a weekly basis - ," he paused for a moment looking around, "which is what? Ten? Twenty?"

"Try forty or fifty," Megan chimed in as she shared an amused glance with her colleagues.

Charlie's eyebrows went up, "Really? Wow, okay, say fifty. Out of those fifty, how many would be considered dangerous?"

"All of them, Chuck," Don was clearly enjoying himself. "They involve criminals and illegal activities."

"You're not helping," Charlie scowled at his brother.

"Didn't intend to," Don grinned.

"Four or five will probably deal with a violent crime," Megan interrupted the bickering, "The rest are mostly white-collar - fraud, embezzlement, extortion, that sort of thing."

Charlie spread his hands at his father, "See? Ten percent or less - and that's merely potential, there's no guarantee anything would actually become dangerous."

"Unless you factor in those two," Trish pointed at Harm and Mac. "Honestly, if I could buy stock in Bethesda, I would. I swear they're on a first-name basis with all the doctors there."

Both Harm and Mac looked at each other and then back at the group with identical 'who me?' expressions. Harm directed a mock scowl at Charlie, "Thanks a lot. We were trying to stay out of this conversation." He turned back to his mother, "It's not that bad." He relented a little at Trish's incredulous look, "Well, it's not like we go looking for trouble."

"But it certainly finds you," Trish pointed out. She caught the uncomfortable look on Mac's face and backed off, "Just try to be more careful, please? My poor old heart can't take the strain."

Harm snorted, knowing how vibrant and active his mother was, "Your 'poor old heart' will outlast us all. You run circles around people half your age."

"I'm still finding it hard to believe that it was Carson Bander who was shooting at you both," Frank redirected the conversation. "It seems completely out of character."

"You knew him?" Harm's eyebrows lifted in surprise as he glanced from Mac to Don. Mac looked surprised, Don looked irritated. Harm knew it wasn't directed at Frank but more at the circumstances. There'd been no way in hell to keep the shooting out of the media. There'd been too many civilians around. It hadn't taken long for the reporters to figure out that it had been Carson Bander who'd been killed. After that, frenzy didn't even begin to cover what had happened. The SAC, Merrick, had been beside himself.

General Cresswell had been less than pleased as well, especially when the story went nationwide. At first, the media had amused itself with theories of why a respected and powerful CEO would allegedly have started shooting at anyone, much less a couple of military lawyers. Inevitably, that led to Michele Elbert and speculation intensified. One ridiculous theory had Bander as Elbert's distraught secret lover, out for revenge. Then an enterprising reporter had made the connection between Mac and the sensationalized CourtTV trial from a number of years back. News stations suddenly felt compelled to air choice segments of the trial while they refined their suppositions about possible motives. For once, Harm was glad when the doctors decided to keep Mac overnight as a precaution. She'd missed a lot of the initial stupidity and gotten one good night of rest.

Meanwhile, Frank was shaking his head, "As an acquaintance for the most part - a friend of a friend of a friend. We've met at conferences. He was a dynamic speaker with an eclectic set of interests. I enjoyed talking to him."

"The guy was nuts," Harm retorted. Mac had her hands tightly clasped together and he dropped a comforting hand on top.

"I don't know that 'nuts' is the right term," Megan said thoughtfully.

"Crazy? Unhinged? Three bricks shy of a load?" Don joined in, gently waggling his beer bottle before taking another sip.

Megan raised an eyebrow at him and he subsided. She looked back at the others, "For lack of a better word, I'd say he was 'high'."

David was shaking his head, "I don't think so. According to the initial blood tests, he was clean. Unfortunately, the full toxicology report won't be ready for a couple of weeks."

"I didn't say it was drug-induced," Megan shook her head. "Remember he'd retired unexpectedly the day before. An abrupt change like that either leaves you depressed or excited. I'm not thinking he was depressed."

"It was a surprise," Frank nodded, "The business sector's been in an uproar. Nobody knows how Threetrails will manage Liwanu's holdings. There's a lot of maneuvering going on."

Larry leaned forward so that he could rest his chin on his hands, "So he went from unimaginable pressures and responsibilities to absolutely no cares in a 24 hour span. That could radically alter your thought processes." He tapped his chin, "Still, it was his choice. He had to have been planning for it."

"But what if all this accelerated his timetable? What if he'd felt it was necessary but not necessarily what he wanted to do just yet?" Amita gestured as she spoke, emphasizing her point.

Harm folded his arms as he stared at Megan, "So you think he was on some sort of euphoric high from a complete lack of responsibilities and decided to celebrate by shooting Mac? Which part of that doesn't qualify as nuts?"

Megan shrugged as she smiled slightly, "Have you read his file? This guy was intense. He'd been working hard since he was a teenager. Took care of his mother until her death. By then, he'd founded Liwanu and was responsible for hundreds of employees. He was sixty-two years old and the last forty-seven years have been spent going above and beyond whatever was required. Then, in twenty-four hours, it stops. He doesn't have to be anywhere, doesn't have to meet anyone or regulate his time, so yeah, I think his thought processes were 'altered'. All he had left to focus on was revenge and this guy was used to winning. In Bander's eyes, his failures were Mac's fault. Because of her, he'd lost control of the situation. She'd betrayed him when she didn't warn him not to proceed with his plan, so he hired Ian to correct the problem. He'd taken back control and was probably feeling invincible right about then. It was that high that made him go to watch without considering that he might be recognized."

"Arrogant SOB," Ian threw in laconically as he leaned back. "Obsessive, too. After we met, he wanted every detail, right down to the caliber bullet and why I thought it was the best choice. I told him to go to hell and let me do the job he hired me for."

Megan grinned at him, "Bet he loved that."

Ian shrugged, "It worked. He was a lot more polite the next time we talked."

"I think that's enough shop talk for now. I'm sure we can find more pleasant topics of conversation." Alan finally spoke up. He'd couldn't imagine that Mac was enjoying the discussion very much.

There was a short, awkward pause before Trish brought up a story involving one of her first art showings at her gallery, an androgynous, highly-strung artist named Mike and the ensuing difficulties when two prominent art critics took opposing views about one of his/her sculptures. That they despised each other fed fuel to the fire, as did the liberal amounts of wine they'd imbibed. The upshot was a short but violent food fight with the hors d'oeuvres and Mike in tears. Appalled, Trish had dealt with them just as if she'd been their mother: stopping the fight while lecturing the critics on their behavior, eliciting sullen apologies to all concerned and figuratively sending them to their rooms by kicking them out the door. She'd spent the next week removing shrimp and sundry other bits of food from assorted nooks and crannies. Surprisingly, considering the tongue-lashing she given the two, both critics had been effusive in praise of her and her gallery in their next columns.

Trish's story broke the ice and the others soon chimed in with their own stories of ridiculous situations or people they'd dealt with over the years. All too soon, it seemed, Harm, Mac and the Burnetts on the road heading for La Jolla.

Trish turned to look in the back seat at Harm and Sarah as Frank merged onto the freeway, "Are you two okay? Do we need to stop for anything?"

Harm resisted rolling his eyes. His mother had been asking those same questions on every road trip since he was a kid. He shook his head, "I'm fine, Mom." He looked at Mac, repeating Trish's question, "You okay?" She really hadn't said much since leaving the Eppes' place.

"I'm fine," Mac smiled at Harm and then Trish, "Just a little tired." The ER doc who'd made the decision to keep her overnight had warned that she'd tire easily for the next couple of days and to curtail her activities accordingly. He'd also gone on to suggest that she wear a helmet at all times and if that wasn't feasible, to find an interior room without windows, cover herself with a mattress and stay there until it was safe to come out - say, sometime in the next millennium. Mac wasn't quite sure if he was kidding or not.

Harm shifted so that he was braced in the corner and motioned to Mac, "Why don't you lean against me and rest for a bit?" She hesitated and he grinned cheekily as he waved a hand at himself, "Come on, how can you resist this?"

At that, Trish decided it was safer to turn forward again while Mac couldn't help rolling her eyes. She also nestled herself carefully against his side, "I'm not hurting your shoulder, am I?"

"Nah," Harm dropped a light kiss to the top of Mac's head while he draped an arm along her back. After a few moments, he felt her sigh. Harm frowned a little, "Mac?"

"It's nothing," Mac's voice was slightly muffled. "It's just that, despite everything that happened, I think I'm going to miss Don, Charlie and the team."

"Yeah, me too," Harm agreed thoughtfully, "Go figure."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence and Harm leaned his head back against the seat. The next time Trish checked, they were both asleep. She turned back and looked over at Frank, her voice soft, "That didn't take long."

Frank glanced in the rearview mirror, "Not surprising, considering the week from Hell. Sarah was fading fast in that last hour at the Eppes'."

"It was horrible, wasn't it? That awful man - " She stopped, not wanting to say it out loud. God knew, over the years, Harm had caused her more gray hairs than any child had a right to but this was different. This time she'd had a front row seat while some maniac tried to kill her son and future daughter-in-law. Trish shook her head. She was silent for several minutes, watching the scenery zip by, before venturing quietly, "Do you think Sarah's having... issues because of the concussion?"

Surprised, Frank took his eyes off the road for a few seconds to stare at Trish. Returning his attention to the road, he frowned a little, "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know," Trish sighed after a moment, "Well, yes I do. Have you noticed that her reactions don't always seem to follow the conversation? It's like she's hearing something different than what's being said."

Frank nodded slowyly, "I have but, like you said, she is getting over a concussion." He gave Trish a reassuring smile, "I'm sure a couple of days of rest will put her right again." He then quirked an eyebrow at her, "And by resting, I mean no dragging her off on one of your extreme shopping excursions."

"Fine," Trish rolled her eyes before grinning a bit. Frank always knew how to make her feel better. After a minute or so, she murmured defiantly, "And it's not just shopping. We're bonding."

Frank chuckled softly before concentrating again on his driving. The sooner they got home to La Jolla, the sooner they could start putting this nightmare behind them. He didn't think the media would be able to find them and hopefully, the furor would die down a bit.

Saturday,

Bander residence

Silverado, CA

1320 Local

Margery Threetrails unlocked the door and stepped inside. The Bear's luxurious compound as well as a good half of his personal wealth was now hers. Bander had willed the other half of his wealth to his foundation, various charities and other community programs. She was still feeling a bit shell-shocked. He'd let her know in numerous ways that she was his heir but she'd assumed that was strictly on the business side. It turned out that he had no close relatives. She hadn't been sure. Considering the vastness of his holdings, though, she knew long-lost cousins and other barely-related flotsam would be making an appearance before too long to try and wrest away what they could. She would fight them on principal. Being frugal, she'd had her own wealth from her earnings and her new position as head of Liwanu ensured a spectacular income for the future.

Margery wandered through the house, feeling the loss of her mentor and boss even more keenly. His funeral had been this morning. It had been well-attended by a great number of people. All had been shocked by his death at the hands of the FBI and more than a few were muttering darkly about conspiracies against a champion of the People. Margery had done nothing to correct them although she was fairly certain she knew what had happened. Their outrage, carefully cultivated, could be useful in the future.

Stepping into the massive study, Margery sat down at the desk, running her hand over the age-darkened wood. Leaning back, she slid a key out of her pocket and unlocked the bottom right-hand drawer. From there she pulled out a folder and placed it on the desk. Over the years, she'd accumulated her own contacts. She owed a number of favors for this but it was worth it. Margery pulled out a thin sheaf of papers and carefully scanned each one. It was a copy of the FBI's after-action report covering the shooting death of Carson Bander. She now had the names of everyone involved in his betrayal and murder. Margery tapped her fingers on the desk as she thought. There would be payback. That wasn't a question. The question was when. She was the head of Liwanu now and with it came massive responsibilities. Thousands of people's livelihoods depended on her maintaining the health of the companies in her charge. She no longer had the freedom to indulge in personal vendettas. Every action would have to examined for its consequences to Liwanu. It was frightening and exhilarating at the same time.

With a heavy sigh, she settled back in the chair, his chair, and stared at the papers. In his personal safe at the office, Bander left her a detailed letter that was to be opened in the event of his death. In it, he'd spelled out his hopes and plans for Liwanu, his contacts, the politicians he owned and the secrets he had on them. Obviously, he'd been preparing the document for quite some time. There was a certain satisfaction in discovering that most of what she'd surmised had been correct. However, the letter hadn't only been about Liwanu. He'd also laid out in detail, exactly what he'd been trying to do for their people. It was a sprawling, complex and completely audacious plan and was exactly the sort of thing she'd expected from Bander. Again, she'd been right on target with a lot of her assumptions. However, there'd also been a section that she'd found extremely troubling. Handwritten and dated the day he'd been killed, it hadn't sounded at all like the man she'd known and admired.

She was dismayed to learn that he'd taken the JAG officer, Colonel MacKenzie, against her will, believing she was deeply connected to the otherworld. He'd even gone so far as to claim that she had guardian spirits protecting her. Margery knew he had believed in the old ways but to think he would take it to that sort of extreme was unsettling. It was also oddly out of character for him to obsess about the woman and her supposed abilities like he had. The Bear had been determined to have her to speak to their ancestors and learn if his plans still had their blessing. Apparently there had been unexpected setbacks that were making him question his timetable. To enhance the vision quest, both he and MacKenzie had taken peyote, although from his phrasing, Margery didn't think the JAG officer had been aware of what she'd been given. In any case, it had done its work. MacKenzie had had a vision that convinced the Bear to proceed and then things had gone horribly wrong. It was at this point in his narrative that Margery noted a change in both his handwriting and tone.

To begin with, somehow, MacKenzie had escaped. Ridiculous as it sounded, according to the Bear, it had supposedly been with her guardian spirits' help. He'd sent James Swift and Lonnie Waterman after her. At first, it had been to bring her back but as she continued to inexplicably elude them, he'd ordered them to stop her any way they could. Not only had they failed to carry out his wishes, they'd also managed to be apprehended by the FBI. Margery had shaken her head as she'd continued to read. Those two had been remarkably incompetent. That, or MacKenzie had had the Devil's own luck.

Bander obviously thought it had to do with Hell. With yet another failure to deal with, he'd managed to convince himself that MacKenzie was actually some sort of demon in human form, sent here to destroy everything he'd worked for. He'd ranted about her lies and treachery and how she'd betrayed all of their people. The Bear laid the entire blame for the failure of his plans solely at MacKenzie's feet. Because of her deception, he'd misread the warnings to delay and disaster had been the result.

There was more along the same vein, along with the fact that he'd hired an assassin to eliminate MacKenzie, thus depriving the evil spirit of a host body. It had sounded insane - hell, it was insane. All she could think was that, after all the years of preparation, the complete failure of his plan to seek vengeance for their people had been too much to bear and that he'd snapped. He'd scribbled down the day, time and place for the shooting in the margin. Now it was apparent that he'd wanted to be there for the destruction of the demon. That was something Margery couldn't understand. Bander had always been obsessively circumspect and yet, in this instance, he'd been remarkably careless. It spoke volumes about his mental state. It was almost as if he'd wanted to be recognized. He had to have known how it would end once he'd started shooting. Was this suicide by cop?

Her expression hardening, Margery shook her head. She refused to believe that he'd wanted to end his life. He'd been betrayed. He must have been depending on the sniper he'd hired to protect him long enough to escape. Instead, the man had protected MacKenzie and Rabb, shooting down the Bear in cold blood. It didn't matter to learn that the sniper was actually an undercover FBI agent. It was still a betrayal.

Margery looked at the list again. Sarah MacKenzie, Charles Eppes, Ian Edgerton, Harmon Rabb, Don Eppes, Megan Reeves, David Sinclair and Colby Granger; these were the people who needed to answer for their crimes. She would see to it that they did but it didn't have to be tomorrow or the next day. The Bear would be just as dead ten years down the road as he was now. She would continue to collect intel and bide her time. Opportunities would always be there. She stared at the list again, committing the names to memory. Like any good predator, she would wait and watch from concealment until her prey became careless and then they would be hers.

Saturday,

McKlellan Estate

Silver Springs, MD

1130 Local

Edwina McKlellan marched into the house, barely acknowledging Raphael as he took her coat. Heading straight for the bar in the family room, she poured herself a stiff shot of bourbon. Bastards. Every single last one of them, starting her own dear father and ending with that hypocrite, Sheffield. Tossing down the drink, she poured herself another. They were all hypocrites, damn them. The private 'memorial' service she'd just attended was a farce. She and ancient Mrs. Perryman, their first governess, were probably the only two there who truly cared about Bradley. The rest attended either because it was expected or to quietly gloat at the family's misfortune.

Win tossed back the second drink and poured a third. She was already feeling a mild buzz but what she wanted was to be numb. Braddie was dead. She knew it in her bones despite the fact that no one had found his body. He would have called her otherwise knowing how she worried about him. Feeling the tears welling up again, she turned and headed for the comfortable, old wingback chair near the fireplace. Settling down, she drew her legs in. This was the chair she and Bradley would sit in when they were little. She'd make up stories about a prince and princess battling an evil King and Braddie would hang on every word. Feeling the tears leak out, she put the drink on the small endtable and covered her face with her hands. Damn them all.

"Edwina."

Her head came up and she turned to regard her maternal grandfather, Harrison Coughlin, her expression cold. While her father was a mean-spirited, greedy, selfish and arrogant SOB, he was also defiantly overt about it. Anyone who knew Stephen McKlellan knew exactly what they were facing. Her mother and grandfather, however, relished the public facade of being warm and generous. In truth, they were as bad as her father. The difference was that Stephen McKlellan would shoot you from the front while the honorable Senator Harrison Pike Coughlin and highly-regarded Emmaline Coughlin McKlellan preferred hiring someone to shoot you in the back. It was a crying shame that Bradley had inherited the worst qualities from both their parents. Edwina continued to glare at her grandfather, ignoring the tears still running down her face, "What do you want?"

"You left early." It sounded like warm concern but Win knew it for the rebuke that it was.

"And that left a hole in the solid family front we were presenting to the unwashed masses? Mother must be mortified." Win no longer felt like being the 'good' child to Bradley's bad boy reputation. Those were the roles they'd worked out when they were finally old enough to understand their father's use of wealth as a club and their mother's underhanded and manipulative ways. Braddie had insisted. Half the stunts he'd pulled were to keep his parents' attention off of her. Unfortunately, the other half were just because he enjoyed raising hell. Despite that, Win did her best to bail him out when she could and she was always there to listen.

Coughlin's eyes narrowed at the sarcasm from his usually passive granddaughter. Edwina was normally as bland as Bradley was troublesome. "Your mother is understandably upset about Bradley. She needs everyone's support in this difficult time."

"Oh, please," Win knocked back the third drink. "Mother hasn't felt anything for Bradley or me since we were whelped. Mrs. Perryman is the one who 'needs everyone's support in this difficult time'. She actually liked us."

"You're drunk," Coughlin growled, now thoroughly out of temper.

Edwina stood up and faced her grandfather, "Not yet, old man, just nicely buzzed." She took a step towards him, "And unlike you, I loved my brother, warts and all. Do I believe the 'baseless rumors and spurious innuendo' about Bradley committing treason? You bet your wrinkled ass, I do. Know why? Because he was making a great deal of money from it, the end-all and be-all of the McKlellan clan. Do you know how I know? Because a nice junior lieutenant at JAG contacted me to let me know I was his sole beneficiary. Bradley left it to me and, ironically, I get to keep it because you derailed that part of the investigation with the help of your weasel pal, Sheffield."

"How dare you!" Coughlin drew himself up in indignation.

"Oh I dare," Win retorted, brushing past him. She stuck her head out into the hallway, "Raphael? Would you have Benny bring my car around? Thank you." Turning back to Coughlin, she folded her arms, "I hold you and my idiot parents ultimately responsible for getting Bradley killed. Your self-righteous 'make a man out of him' crap played right into Father's hands. You sanctimonious hypocrite, you waited until he was full-grown before suddenly professing concern for his character and changing all the rules. Where were you when Bradley was ten and your attention might have made a difference?"

"What do you want?" Coughlin decided to cut to the chase as he eyed his granddaughter warily. He'd dismissed her over the years, believing her to be another spoiled, shallow debutante. Now he realized he'd underestimated her.

"I want my brother back," Win said softly and then her voice grew harder, "Since that's not possible, I want to know exactly what happened to him, who was involved and why the hell no one protected him like they should."

Coughlin shifted uncomfortably. The tone of her voice promised retribution, "And then what?"

"And then..." Win glared at him and then her expression went ominously blank, "Nothing." She glanced over her shoulder when Benny appeared in the doorway, "It's out front?" The young man nodded and she waved a hand in dismissal, "Thank you, I'll be there in a moment."

"Where are you going? You know you're supposed to join the family tonight for the public service. You have to be there," Coughlin warned with a frown, "Your parents are expecting everyone to attend. Don't embarrass them."

"Wouldn't think of it," Win retorted. She turned around and walked out, leaving her grandfather staring after her. Benny was waiting by the car when she made it outside and she gave him a polite nod while he held the door open for her.

Once she was settled, he climbed into the driver's seat and glanced at the rear view mirror, "Where to, Ms. Edwina?"

"DC, Benny, the Navy JAG headquarters," Win leaned back in the seat. It was time to start gathering information and playing the naive, distraught sister seemed the best way to approach it. Pinnella had been warmly sympathetic when he'd gone over Bradley's will with her. She thought she'd detected some interest on his part as well and wasn't above capitalizing on it, if possible. While a few tears could go a long way in getting some of her questions answered, entering into a relationship would give her ample excuse to visit the JAG headquarters. The more familiar she became to the office denizens, the less of a threat she'd appear. Once she knew all those involved, someone would answer for what had happened to Braddie.

Sunday,

Burnett residence

La Jolla, CA

0340 Local

Mac started a little when the black cat leapt up in her lap and then smiled as she scratched under his chin, "Roger, where've you been?"

"Catching perpetually fat, stupid mice," Avis walked out on the porch carrying a pitcher of lemonade and several glasses.

Surprised, Mac blinked and looked around. She was sitting in a rocking chair on the porch of Avis' snug little house in the Shenandoah Valley. She glanced over at Avis, "I'm dreaming?"

The blonde nodded as she sat down in another chair, "It's easier this way - and more pleasant."

"It's good to see you again," Mac shook her head a little, "Does that make sense?"

"Of course," Avis grinned, "I imagine it's been difficult listening to disembodied voices."

Mac looked over her shoulder, "Is Kate here?"

"She'll be along in a bit,"

"So this is just a visit?" Mac's tone was light but there was tenseness about her as she looked at Avis.

"Of a sort," Avis reached over and patted Mac's arm, "Don't worry. It's perfectly safe here."

Mac relaxed somewhat, rubbing behind Roger's ears while he purred loudly, "So why do I feel like a shoe is about to drop?"

Avis looked down at her glass of lemonade, "Because I have to tell you that Kate and I will be stepping back now. There's no longer a need for such constant interaction."

"Oh." Mac stared out across the fields near the barn, telling herself it was silly to feel hurt.

"Sarah," Avis waited until the brunette was facing her again, "That doesn't mean you're being abandoned. I'll still be here but it will be as it was before. I will stay in the background. You must admit, it will be less complicated than continually trying to conceal our conversations."

Mac nodded silently. Avis had a point. She frowned slightly, "Before? Have you always been watching me?"

Avis chuckled, "Heavens, no. You and your Commander generally require a team." She hesitated a little, "I joined just after your return from South America."

Mac flinched and concentrated on Roger. That was a less than stellar time in her life. Worse was her cold-blooded killing of Fahd nine months later. Avis had seen that?

"Sarah, stop," Avis ordered, "That man had given himself over to evil. You did what was necessary. Neither of you had a choice."

Turning away to gaze at the landscape, Mac took a deep breath and nodded slowly. Her actions that day would probably always haunt her to some extent. She'd just have to deal with it and keep moving. The two women fell into a comfortable silence for a few minutes before Mac spoke again, "If you've been with me all this time, why couldn't I see and hear you before?"

"That would be my fault."

Mac turned and saw Kate standing in the doorway, while Avis smiled and gestured for her to join them. Mac glanced at Avis and then looked back at Kate, "Your fault?"

Kate walked out and leaned against the porch railing, folding her arms and shrugging a bit, "Rookie mistake. I didn't know it was 'watch but don't speak'."

"What?" Mac shook her head, feeling confused.

"It wasn't a mistake. It was a rather powerful aspect of Kate's nature," Avis rocked slowly, while the other two women looked at her. "She's a protector. It's how she lived - and died, and when she found herself with you, Sarah, she continued that role." Avis grinned at Kate, "What surprised us was how fast she learned to manifest herself."

Kate ducked her head, looking embarrassed, "I haven't learned enough. I can't do a quarter of the things that you do."

"But when you two first appeared, I thought I was dreaming. You could have left it at that," Mac cut in. She eyed Avis for a moment and then her eyebrows rose in surprise, "You saw something, didn't you? Like you've done before."

Avis smiled as she shook her head, "And you continue to be a catalyst for those around you. Yes, I saw there was more going on. It was decided that you would need a more involved guardianship than usual. Kate and I were chosen because of our past relationships with you. You needed people that you could trust implicitly." Avis stopped rocking and stood up, "And now I'm afraid it's time for us to go."

Mac stood, too, feeling distressed, "So soon? I was hoping we'd have a chance to talk for a while."

"We will again. There's always your dreams." Avis stepped forward and hugged Mac and then moved back so Kate could hug the Marine as well.

Mac stepped away, eyeing the other two women, "So how does this work?"

Avis smiled as she stood with her hands clasped in front, looking almost exactly as she had on the first day they'd met, "It's simple enough, continue to dream."

With that, she and Kate faded from view, leaving Mac standing on the porch. Mac took one more look around the little farm as she waited for it to fade as well. She froze at the sound of clucking and turned to stare at the bottom of the steps. A large, black hen stared back and Mac rolled her eyes as she looked up towards the sky, "Very funny."

Slowly, Mac opened her eyes and looked out into the pre-dawn darkness. Something had roused her, what... she smiled softly as a large, warm hand lightly rubbed her shoulder. Turning onto her back, she saw Harm braced on an elbow, watching. Stretching a bit, she continued to smile, "It's early. Everything okay?"

"I could ask you that. You were getting pretty restless." Harm carefully brushed the hair away from her face and then let his hand slide down to caress her cheek, "Bad dreams?"

"Nooo," Mac drew the word out with a sigh at the end. She turned on her side so that she was facing Harm, "I saw Avis and Kate again. They wanted to say goodbye."

Harm's eyebrows rose, "Goodbye? They're gone? I thought - isn't Avis - ?" He stopped, not quite sure how upset Mac might be.

She stared down at the bed, tracing a random pattern on the sheet, "According to Avis, they'll still be keeping an eye out but staying in the background, like before." Mac took a deep breath, keeping her eyes down, "It's stupid, but I feel like I've lost them all over again."

"It's not stupid. Come here," Harm rolled onto his back and opened his arms. Silently, Mac scooted over and settled into his embrace, resting her head on his chest and throwing an arm across his midsection. Harm began rubbing her back. After a minute or two, he said quietly, "I saw Avis once in a dream, too. It was after you, Megan and McKlellan were taken."

Surprised, Mac lifted her head to look at him, "What did she say?"

Harm hesitated. He was reluctant to repeat everything Avis had said, not wanting to get Mac's hopes up. The odds were ridiculously long. "Mostly that I shouldn't give up hope of finding you." He waited a moment and then grinned, "And that she approves of taking kids in. She thinks we'll be great parents."

"She does?" Mac sounded pleased, and a little surprised, as she laid her head down again.

Harm let himself relax, drifting back towards sleep. He roused when he felt Mac shift. Lifting his head, Harm looked down towards her. "Mac?" he asked sleepily.

"I was thinking," Mac began, raising herself up on an elbow. She lightly slapped his chest when she heard him mutter, "Uh-oh." in mock horror. "I was thinking," she repeated, eyeing him sternly. Harm wisely assumed an expression of rapt attention although he'd trapped her hand on his chest and was playing with her fingers. She half-closed her eyes and shivered when he began a feather-light stroking on the inside of her wrist. A soft moan escaped as he moved up her arm and she closed her eyes the rest of the way. What was left of her concentration fled when she felt his lips on the side of her neck. After a couple of moments, or hours, or months - her time sense had disappeared with the rest of coherent thought - she felt a rumbling in his chest. Deciphering it didn't seem that important as Harm worked his way to her jawline. She couldn't help a petulant murmur when he pulled away. Dimly, she heard him call her name and finally forced her eyes open, "What?" Her voice came out in a throaty whisper.

Harm took a deep breath, trying to contain the desire that flared ever higher at the sound of her voice. Did she have any idea what she did to him? He cleared his throat, "I said, what were you thinking?" The tiny part of his brain that wasn't consumed by passion had annoyingly pointed out that he'd ignored whatever she'd wanted to talk about in favor of seducing her. He didn't want to belong to that list of men who'd dismissed her mind in favor of her body. He loved the whole package and he needed to make sure she knew that.

Mac blinked at him as she tried to quell the reactions he'd induced while recalling whatever the hell she'd wanted to talk about earlier. God, she loved him so much. Ironically, that thought helped bring her the control she needed. Her love for him encompassed more than the physical although she readily admitted he was drop-dead gorgeous and damn good in bed. Finally she remembered what she wanted to talk about and couldn't help dropping her head a little, feeling inexplicably worried, "I, uh, I was thinking maybe we should figure out a new wedding date." She chanced a glance up and couldn't help smiling at the huge grin that suddenly appeared on Harm's face.

He tried to look serious and failed miserably, "About time MacKenzie, I was beginning to think I was just another pretty face."

She couldn't help smirking slightly as she leaned in to kiss him, "But you are a pretty face."

Harm groaned in pleasure as Mac deepened the kiss. When they finally parted, he grinned at the look on her face and brushed some of the hair out of her face. He raised an eyebrow, "I have a mind, you know."

Mac leaned in again, "I don't care." After a few moments, Harm found he didn't care either.

Sunday,

Burnett residence

La Jolla, Ca

0830 Local

Frank and Trish looked up from their morning reading when Harm and Mac stepped out onto the deck. After exchanging 'Good mornings', Trish glanced at her watch, "I thought you two might sleep in a bit this morning."

Harm jerked a thumb towards Mac while plucking a banana out of the bowl of fruit on the table, "This is sleeping-in for her." He shot a look at Mac that made her blush a little, "I was perfectly willing to stay in bed a while longer."

Trish settled for raising an eyebrow at her son before turning her attention to Mac, "Have a seat, dear. Would you like some breakfast?"

Mac turned back towards the house, "I can get it."

"You'll do no such thing," Trish replied firmly, "You're supposed to take it easy, so sit. I'll be back in a jiffy. Everything's done. I was just keeping it warm."

"No one asked me about breakfast," Harm affected a put-upon attitude causing Mac to roll her eyes and Frank to look up from his paper.

"You're dressed for running and you just had a banana," Frank pointed out mildly and then grinned at his stepson, "Besides, we like Sarah better. Go run."

"Fine," Harm leaned down for a quick kiss from Mac and then handed her his banana peel, "For you, honeybun." He was off the deck before she could respond.

Trish walked out with a breakfast tray a few seconds later. Putting it on the table, she glanced at the banana peel Mac was still holding in two fingers and raised an eyebrow.

"Your son," Frank commented laconically.

Trish shook her head in mock despair, "I keep telling him flowers. He never listens."

- - - - -

Harm climbed the steps to the deck a little over an hour later, feeling satisfyingly tired. He'd always loved running on the beach. Reaching the deck, he found his parents and Mac engrossed in the newspaper while sipping coffee. The breakfast dishes were piled neatly on the tray. Pulling over a chair, he settled down next to Mac. Trish looked at him and wrinkled her nose, "Harmon Rabb, you're all sweaty. Go shower and I'll get your breakfast for you."

Harm rolled his eyes a little and looked at Mac, "Did you say anything yet?"

Mac shook her head, "I was waiting for you." In truth, she was still a little nervous about bringing it up.

Trish glanced at Frank, her hopes rising, "You wanted to tell us something?"

Harm grinned at his mother, knowing exactly what she was hoping for. He took Mac's hand and squeezed it, "We need to set a new date for the wedding."

Trish clapped her hands in delight, "That's wonderful! Have you decided when?"

Harm shared a look with Mac, "We were thinking about the beginning of October." He shrugged, "If I had my way, it'd be tomorrow at City Hall but Mac said you'd kill me."

"Smart woman," Frank smiled at his future daughter-in-law.

"October, that's less than six months," Trish was frowning a little. "That might make it difficult to find a place for the reception. They're usually booked a year in advance. You're still planning on an East Coast wedding, right?" Harm and Mac nodded. Trish tapped her chin, glancing around as she thought out loud, "I know I still have your original guest list. I imagine we'll have to augment that now to include the Eppes family. I'm sure they'll want to come if they can." She looked at the couple, "You do want to invite them, don't you?"

Mac glanced at Harm and nodded, "I'd like to invite Megan and Colby, too."

"Of course, dear," Trish smiled, "It's your wedding." How wonderful it felt to say that.

Meanwhile, Frank was rummaging through the mail that was stacked on the table. Finally, he held up a large, cream-colored envelope, "You might want to throw this into the equation."

Trish straightened, lightly slapping her forehead, "Oh dear, you're right. How could I forget?" She took in Harm and Mac's mystified expressions, "You'll probably find yours in your mail when you get home. This came Friday while we were in LA."

"Find what?" Harm asked with a slight hint of exasperation.

Frank opened the envelope, pulled out an invitation and began to read, "You are cordially invited to the celebration of the twenty-first birthday of Princesses Margarete Catalin and Natalya Moira Dzurick of the kingdom of Bacovia... " Frank lowered the invitation and looked at the rest of them, "This is on September 22nd at the Bacovian Embassy in DC. There's a second invitation to the coronation of Queen Margarete Catalin on October 6th in Bacovia."

Harm whistled softly, "So the twins turn twenty-one and Georghe is stepping down. I'd almost forgotten." He turned to Mac and grinned, "Feel like honeymooning in Bacovia?"

Mac smiled back, "Why not? It sounds like fun."

- - - - - - - -

Finis

Okay, that's it for this tale. Wanna guess where the next story is taking place - who's on the guest list? ;-)

This last chapter was tough, as all of you have no doubt surmised from the length of time it took me to finish and post. A lot of times, these things just write themselves - but not this time. I wound up rewriting several sections numerous times before I was halfway satisfied with the results. Thank you all for your patience and support throughout this story. You folks are awesome, so give yourselves a pat on the back. It certainly makes all the effort worthwhile. It wasn't always fun but I usually had a good time and I hope everyone else enjoyed it as well.

I'll be taking a bit of break before diving in again but I might as well warn you now, it could be a while. I'm still working six days a week, more often than not, which obviously cuts into my free time. I like to be at least a third or so through a story before I begin to post and I'm sure all of you are now aware of the glacial pace of my writing... maybe I should start apologizing now and get a head start.

I do have a story finished for another fandom that I'm thinking about posting. It's for CSI Miami, a show I think has potential if the writers would A.) pay attention to continuity and B.) get over the silly factor. I keep hoping. If you don't like the series, please skip the story. I mention this because some of you have author alerts and I don't want you thinking I've got another JAG story out there and then being disappointed.

Thanks once more for reading. We'll meet again.


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